


Angel Undercover

by Velace



Series: Tumblr Stories [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Horrid Flirting, Idiots, Sick!Emma, Terrible Jokes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, caregiver!Regina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: When Emma got food poisoning for the first time, she’d only been in Storybrooke for three weeks and Regina hadn’t liked her enough to care. The second time was a year later, and they were getting there, slowly. Regina cared, but not enough to offer anything more than vague sympathy for her no longer quite nemesis and maybe, possibly, almost friend.The third time is at Neal’s second birthday, and it’s not food poisoning so much as it is Emma eating too much and vomiting all over her mother, but Regina had to put her foot down some time and really, Snow baked the cake; it had to be food poisoning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evergrove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evergrove/gifts).



> This is another tumblr fic I neglected all of my other stories to write that came about after Evergrove commented on HtMaM and made me miss writing it. It's not finished yet but I figure it's been so long since I updated anything, I might as well share. I will be finishing it before I return to any of my other stories, and I have no idea how long it's going to take,

"You did her a favour.” Emma rolls her eyes. “I’m serious,” Regina insists, “that sweater was an eyesore- I’m fairly certain Grumpy was seconds away from taking to it with his pickaxe and he _likes_ your mother.”

It was green, and yellow, and _fluffy_. It reminded her of those god awful Christmas sweaters that grandmothers knit for their grandchildren that they then guilt them into wearing even though anyone with eyes can see the things are hideous abominations fit only to fuel what should be the raging fires of those grandchildren’s souls.

“Honestly,” she drawls, “she knits about as well as she cooks, and we both know how well that is.” Emma tries to protest, her voice sounding a combination of tired, exasperated, amused, and somehow drunk when she calls her name. Regina eyes her warily and takes a subtle step back. “Are you going to vomit again?”

Emma shakes her head, then groans and drops said head into her hands. Regina moves back to her side, hand already outstretched to offer comfort. She hesitates only for a moment before running her fingers through Emma’s hair and gingerly sitting down next to her.

“I can try to craft a spell for you to recite whenever she serves you food, to make it edible.” Emma laugh-groans, one hand going to her stomach. “Sorry.”

“S’ok,” she murmurs, sighing. “I feel like shit.”

“Perhaps a nap will do you some good,” Regina suggests as her hand falls to a shoulder and she squeezes. “You go on upstairs to the guest room. I’ll bring you some soup in a little while and we’ll see if you can keep it down.”

Emma’s lips quirk. “I’m not sick, Regina. I told you I ate too much.”

“And I told you I don’t believe you,” she counters before she rises. “Do you need help up the stairs?”

Peering up at her, Emma says, “I really should go home.”

“Nonsense.”

She nods, mouth quirking a little more. “Yeah, I’d probably fall into a ditch somewhere and just lay there, wishing for-”

“I will gladly arrange your death at a later time,” Regina smoothly, _knowingly_ , interrupts. “For now, you will take yourself upstairs and get some rest.”

With some effort, Emma stands. She gives her a thoughtful look, then chuckles at what she finds. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?”

“Only you would dare.” Pointing in the direction of the stairs, Regina commands, “Go.”

Again, Emma chuckles. “Yes ma’am.” She walks slowly, clutching her stomach as if it might stop her from throwing up once more. Cheekily, she glances back over a shoulder when she reaches the foyer, and winks. “Going ma’am.”

* * *

 

Henry returns home an hour later, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin Regina has ever seen. She smirks when she looks over her shoulder and sees him, her heart tugging fondly, as if she needs the reminder of how much she adores him. His hug is less of a hug than it is him draping himself over her shoulders, his chest a reassuring pressure against the back of her head.

“How’s ma?”

“Fine,” she replies, gripping his arms and tugging them tight around her neck. She adds, “Passed out upstairs. She’s insisting she ate too much.”

“Yeah right. I bet it was the sweater that triggered it.”

His doubt makes her grin but the comment has her laughing. “That’s my boy,” she says, proud as can be. He might be Emma’s son when it comes to devouring everything in sight, but his _smartassery_ , as Emma had once called it, is all her. “How was the rest of the party?”

“Lame,” he answers promptly, dropping a kiss to her temple before he pulls back and wanders over to the fridge. “After ma threw up on her, I think grandma forgot the party was for Uncle Neal.”

Regina scoffs, though she refrains from speaking her thoughts aloud. Anyone whose met Snow would know she thinks the world revolves around her. Anyone who thought her son’s party would be any different was either stupid, delusional, or a combination of the two.

“You’d think she’d be used to her children vomiting on her.”

“Yeah.” Henry flashes her a grin, then they both laugh. Juice in hand, he drops onto the stool beside her and says, “She said it was the only thing she had left to wear.”

Regina shakes her head. Amusing as it was to believe none of Snow’s children could tolerate her food, Neal and his projectile vomit is not something she wants to think about.. “That boy needs an exorcism.”

“That’s what I keep telling her.”

She jerks at the unexpected voice and spins on her stool, lips parted and ready to scold Emma for being out of bed.

Henry interrupts her. “Hey ma.”

“Hey kid,” Emma replies, smiling weakly.

Regina narrows her eyes but stands quickly, worried by how pale Emma is. “Sit,” she orders, gesturing to the stool. “I’ll make you some soup.”

“Uh, better not.” Emma slides onto the stool. “I drank the water you left- it didn’t take.”

Sharing a look with Henry, he nods and says, “Sounds like food poisoning to me.”

Emma groans but she doesn’t deny it this time, slouching over the counter instead as she buries her head in her arms. Regina feels a pang but more importantly, she feels _angry_ because if Snow had just _listened_ to her when she was baking everything, Emma’s suffering could have been avoided.

“That’s it,” she says, deciding then and there. “From now on, the only food you eat comes from me.”

* * *

 

Regina insists she stay. Emma tries to argue; it goes about as well as arguing with Regina about anything ever does. She’d been doomed to lose from the start, but with Henry butting in with his comment about getting to spend more time with her, she had caved long before Regina had run out of reasons for why she should listen to her and stop being so stubborn.

 _Her_. Stubborn. Right.

Pot and kettle idioms aside, she’d been relegated to the couch in the den. Regina had made her a bed there and everything, and Henry had whined because whenever he tries to make a bed on the couch, Regina gets all snippy with him. Emma had laughed, gotten the stink eye, then collapsed into the mountain of blankets figuring she’d already caved, she might as well make the most of it.

Henry sits on the floor in front of her, controller in hand, running over zombies with a beastly looking truck appropriately named Big Boss. She doesn’t know what Regina is doing, but she can hear clinking from the kitchen and assumes whatever it is is likely something that’ll make her throw up later.

Not that she intends to say anything. Thanks to her little accident at the party and then earlier in the bathroom upstairs, she feels like she’s starving. Whatever Regina is making, she hopes it’ll stay down long enough for her to at least digest _some_ of it.

“Wanna play?” Vision blurred from daydreaming, she tries to clear it, blinking rapidly. Henry grins back at her. “Were you falling asleep?”

“Maybe,” she murmurs. It’s warm, comfortable, and everything smells nice; Regina knew what she was doing when she set everything up. “No,” she adds, “to playing, I mean. Maybe later.”

“K. Wanna try some more water?”

“That won’t work-” Regina chimes in as she rounds the corner. “-but this might.”

Emma tips her head back to find out what _this_ is. It’s a glass filled to the brim with weirdly rainbow, foamy looking… stuff.  “What is that?”

“Your meal for the next couple of days.”

She wrinkles her nose. “What’d you do, blender a unicorn?”

“Yes,” Regina deadpans, then rolls her eyes. “It’s a perfectly natural, magic smoothie.”

Slowly sitting up as she passes it to her, Emma eyes the glass. “You know that by adding magic, it’s no longer natural, right?”

“Just drink it, you pest.” When she raises the glass to her mouth, Regina quickly places her finger near the bottom, lowering it as she adds, “ _Slowly_ , the aim is for you _not_ to vomit.”

“Bossy,” Emma mutters, but she does as she’s told and sips. Slowly. Too slowly, just to be a pain. Regina smirks knowingly and flicks the bottom of the glass. “Hey, what if I choked and died? You’d have no one to tell what to do.”

Regina shrugs. “I’d still have Henry.”

“I want no part of this,” he protests as he gets to his feet. He points to them both, a smartass comment on the tip of his tongue, Emma assumes, but he pauses. And frowns suddenly. “Where’s my dinner?”

“In the kitchen.” He continues to frown and Regina sighs, speaking slowly. “Away from your mother… who is sick… and cannot eat.”

“Oh!” He gives Emma a sheepish look and when she chuckles, he grins. “My bad.”

Watching him go, Regina shakes her head. “He gets his dimwittedness from you.”

“I heard that!”

Stifling her laughter, Emma tsks. “Insulting our son while he can still hear you? Wow, Regina. Just… wow.”

She scoffs. “Shut up and drink your unicorn.”

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t tell her that the smoothie will put her to sleep. She’s watching TV when her eyes start to droop. It’s ridiculous because it’s not even seven o’clock yet, but there’s nothing she can do about it and before she knows it, she’s waking up to a darkened room, wanting to puke.

She makes it to the downstairs bathroom just in time and drops to her knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the seat as she begins to heave, she groans into the bowl.

It’s over quickly and nowhere near as bad as she thought it would be but it leaves her feeling a lot weaker than she had been before. When she tries to stand, her knees buckle and with nothing to grab onto besides the toilet, she ends up right where she started as she crashes back to the floor.

“Ow, fu-” Seemingly from thin air, Regina is suddenly there, crouched beside her, a hand on her back. “-ck.”

“You weren’t supposed to be awake yet.”

Emma swallows the snarky retort on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t her fault she’d woken up, but it hadn’t sounded like an accusation. Regina was merely stating a fact and- “What are you doing?”

“Getting you back to the couch.” Somehow, she’d already gotten an arm over her shoulders and pulled Emma to her feet. “Just… don’t try to help- It’ll be easier for me.”

Emma winces. She appreciates the assistance, but the couch isn’t where she needs to be right now. “Not to be annoying, but I’m not really enjoying the current taste in my mouth.”

“Oh.” Regina pauses, frowning.

Emma smiles and suggests, “Just chuck me back on the floor and grab some mouthwash or something.”

“I will not be _chucking_ you anywhere.” True to her word, Regina moves her closer to the bathtub and slowly lowers her back to the floor. “Give me a moment. I don’t have a spare-”

Regina is gone before Emma can so much as blink an eye. She reappears seconds later with a toothbrush in hand, packaged and all. “Um, did you just poof-”

“Yes.”

“Well, okay then.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she watches Regina struggle with the plastic packaging before giving a little growl and magicking the toothbrush from within.

“Whoever designed those is an imbecile.”

Emma coughs to cover a laugh but can do nothing for the grin lighting up her face. Regina rolls her eyes before waving a hand and conjuring a tube of toothpaste. She hands both the tube and brush to Emma. “I’ll… be right back..”

Brush already in her mouth, Emma nods.

Regina returns less than a minute later, glass of water in hand. She sits it on the floor beside her, then leans against the door. “It was a potion.” Again, Emma nods. She’d gathered as much when Regina had said it was magical. “It will strengthen your immune system, but…”

Taking the brush from her mouth, she finishes, “I woke before it was done.” Regina inclines her head. “So how much longer am I going to need help walking?”

“A couple of hours,” she replies, her smile apologetic. “It would help if you went back to sleep.”

Emma chuckles. “That shouldn’t be a problem, considering I’m falling asleep right here.”

Regina gestures to the glass. “Rinse, then we can get you back to bed.”

She does, and when she’s done, Regina takes the glass from her and empties it into the sink. She’s next to her an instant later and helping her back to her feet. “Are you secretly the Flash?”

Regina smirks. “No, you’re merely suffering from very brief but frequent blackouts.”

“Uh.” That doesn’t sound good. “Is that normal?”

“Yes.” With an arm around her waist, Regina leads her from the bathroom. Remembering her earlier words, Emma makes no attempt to help, which means she’s basically being carried back to the den. On the way there, Regina explains, “It’s perfectly safe… well- it would be, if _you_ were at all normal.”

“I’m starting to think you think I woke up on purpose.”

Mouth twitching, Regina drawls, “Anything to make my life more difficult.”

Emma sighs dramatically. “Everything is always about you, isn’t it, Your Majesty?”

“Naturally.”


	2. Chapter 2

Emma wriggles in her sleep. Strangely, it brought an odd kind of comfort to Regina and had helped her fall asleep. It’s the lack of wriggling that awakens her as Emma stiffens in her arms. She’d been worried Emma would wake up again and need her. She had no intention of snuggling with the woman but the obvious solution had been for them to share the couch.

It was a terrible solution the morning after, though not because of their positions. Her bed is far more comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that she’d likely still be asleep and would be entirely oblivious to the eyes that feel as if they are attempting to melt her face off.

“Stop staring.”

A soft, husked chuckle warms her ear before Emma replies, “But you’re so pretty.”

“Go back to sleep, idiot.”

“I can’t,” she says and wriggles closer. “I’m too distracted by the attractive woman cuddling me.”

Regina snorts. “I will punch you,” she threatens.

Emma hums. “I would have bet my life that you were a morning person.”

She used to be, before Henry turned into a teenager and discovered her love of sleeping in. She’s barely an _afternoon_ person now- not that Emma needs to know that. “Shame you didn’t.”

“Ouch.” Feeling her shift, she snaps her eyes open and breathes a quiet sigh of relief when she realizes Emma is merely looking around. “Did you gigantify the couch?”

“That’s not a word.” At her unimpressed look, she sighs. “Yes.”

Emma drops back down, head burrowing into the pillow they’d shared. “You need to teach me that spell.”

“We’ve been through this,” Regina murmurs, closing her eyes again. “You’re unteachable.”

“That’s quitter talk.”

Her mouth twitches. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

“Regina,” Emma whines, her head shifting closer as she draws out her name. Regina tries to ignore her but she can’t help but breathe a laugh when she feels Emma’s nose poke her in the cheek. “Regina,” she whispers. “Regina, I need a humongous bed.”

Regina tries to swat her away but Emma captures the hand she uses, returning it to where it was and holding it there. Warmth spreads through Regina as she gently squeezes her hip. “I will teach you the spell,” she concedes, “ _if_ you let me go back to sleep.”

An arm slides across her waist. “Don’t you have to work?”

“I’ll be working from home for the remainder of the week.”

A silence descends and stretches between them. It’s borderline uncomfortable before Emma finally breaks it, voice hesitant. “For me?”

She could deny it. There are any number of reasons for why she might work at home. She’s done it before, for things as small as the fact she found people particularly annoying that day. In the end, though, yes; this time, she would stay home to take care of the mother of her son and really, why should she lie about her reasons? It’s not like Emma can _make_ her go to work.

“Yes.”

* * *

 

Emma didn’t argue, protest or tell her she didn’t have to do that. She had simply sighed contently as she curled around her and drifted off back to sleep. Sometime later, Regina wakes to the sensation of eyes on her, again. She knows from the snuffling and warm breaths against her neck that Emma is still asleep, which must mean-

“Good morning, son.”

“It was,” he replies, amused. She cracks an eye open and peers up at him. He laughs. “It’s almost lunch time.” And this, Regina stands corrected, _this_ is the biggest, shit-eating grin she has ever seen. “Comfy?”

Opening her other eye, she narrows both. Ignoring the question, she asks, “Shouldn’t you be at school, mister?” He bobs his head. “So, why aren’t you?”

“Forgot my homework.”

The answer is too quick, too rehearsed. She considers confronting the lie but Emma beats her to it. “You shouldn’t lie to your mother like that,” she murmurs from the crook of her neck. “Especially when you’re so bad at it.”

Torn between smacking her and glaring at their son, Regina huffs. She’s reminded of the arm around her waist mere moments later when Emma, already impossibly close, shifts closer. It’s for that reason she decides she’ll smack Emma later as she focuses her full, undivided attention on Henry.

He raises his hands at her glare. “I felt left out, okay?” She softens instantly. “I saw you guys down here this morning and it’s all I could think about at school, so I came home hoping we could do something together for lunch.”

“That’s sweet, kid,” Emma says, her nose brushing Regina’s jaw as she turns her head. “And we would, of course, love to spend time with you, but you do realize I’m sick, yeah? I can’t do much and I doubt what I can do will be in any way fun for you.”

“I don’t care,” he groans before his eyes widen and he quickly amends, “About what we do, I mean. I do care you’re sick- I just… I don’t care what we do. I only have an hour before I have to go back to school, anyway. I just wanna do _something_ with you both.”

Already deciding she’ll be letting him stay home for the rest of the day, Regina pats Emma’s arm and waits until she’s released before she gets up from the couch. “While you two figure out what it is you’ll be doing, I will get started on lunch,” she informs them. She then cups Henry’s cheek and places a kiss against the other. “Nothing gorey- your mother has enough trouble keeping things down without all that brutality and violence you’re both so fond of.”

“ _We’ll_ ,” Henry corrects her before returning the kiss. “I want to spend time with _both_ of you- so nothing gorey, I promise.”

“Good.” Dropping another kiss to his forehead, she slips passed and makes her way to the kitchen, chuckling when she realizes they’re already arguing about what they want to do.

* * *

 

When Regina presents her with her next smoothie, Emma gazes up at her, pouting. “No more rainbows?”

Regina chuckles. She wiggles the glass at her until Emma takes it, then replies,  “Not unless you’d like a repeat of last night.”

“You mean the cuddling or…”

Lips twitching, Regina shakes her head. The look she gives her is exasperated but just as, if not more than, fond. “Or.”

Emma wrinkles her nose. She wouldn’t mind more cuddling. She could definitely do without the rest. “I’ll take a hard pass on that one, thanks.”

“Good. Comfortable as my couch is, I much prefer my bed.”

Taking her first sip of the smoothie, Emma hums. One wouldn’t know it by the sickly colour- it looks like Regina went outside, dug up her lawn, and blended the contents; worms and all- but it’s sweet and tastes a little like banana. It’s delicious. “Nope,” she says after another three sips, sucking the residue from her lips. “Sharing the couch with me is extremely crucial to my recovery. I may, in fact, die if you’re not there to watch over me until morning.”

Regina smirks. “I imagine I’ll survive the twinge of guilt I may experience as the sole reason for your demise.”

Henry, who they both appear to have temporarily forgotten is there to witness their friendly banter, chooses then to remind them. “Is this your guys idea of flirting?”

Regina’s cheeks colour visibly and Emma has the strange urge to touch them. She continues sipping her drink instead, subtly slipping her other hand underneath her as Regina counters, “I loathe your mother more than words could ever hope to express, why on earth would I flirt with her?”

“Same,” Emma agrees, nodding wisely when Henry looks over to her. “She’s terrible in every way possible, don’t be gross.”

Regina gazes down at her and it’s obvious she’s biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling. “Then why are you looking at each other like that?”

“I’m wondering which piece of clothing she’s wearing is the most flammable,” Regina answers smoothly.

“I’m trying to decide which part of her I want to throw up on more.” Regina frowns, concern suddenly shining in her eyes. Emma smiles up at her. “I’m okay.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Henry groans, interrupting the moment. “I’m going back to school.”

“I already called the Principal and informed her you wouldn’t be returning,” Regina says, flashing him a not even remotely soft smile. It’s kind of evil, actually; Emma loves it. “You’re stuck with us now.”

Henry’s face couldn’t be brighter if he tried. “Really?”

“Really,” she repeats. “Now, what did we decide on?”

He and Emma share a look, then both nod, answering at the same time. “Starwars marathon.”

Regina sighs.

* * *

 

“Emma?”

“I’m here.”

Steadying herself against the wall, she takes a breath before rounding the corner into the den. From the couch, Regina stares at her with concern. “Again?”

“Yeah.” She smiles weakly as she shuffles over to the couch. “It wasn’t so bad this time.”

“Truly?” Regina cocks a brow. “Or are you only saying that to make me feel better?”

“Not that I wouldn’t totally lie to your face to make you feel better, but yeah.” Emma grins. The first time is always the worst and the second doesn’t fair much better, but she’s been sick often enough that after a while it’s just one of those things that happens. It’ll pass eventually but until then, she’s just going to have to deal with it. “There might actually be something left in there.”

As she returns to her seat, Regina leans back, their shoulders touching. “Let’s hope it stays there.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s almost dinner time,” she adds after a brief silence. “I don’t imagine you’d like another just yet.”

“Maybe later,” Emma agrees, the nausea returning at the mere thought of ingesting anything else. She rubs it soothingly. “Much as I enjoyed the last one, I think my stomach needs time to settle.”

“Alright.” Regina offers a sympathetic smile and pats her leg. “Henry still isn’t over the fact we made him start the series with the second movie. He went upstairs to search for the first one.”

Emma grimaces. “He can search all he wants, he isn’t going to find it.” The day anyone forces her to watch The Phantom Menace will be the day Hell freezes over. “If he didn’t resemble my mother so much, the fact he likes Jar Jar Binks would raise some serious questions regarding whose hooha he really came from.”

“Hooha?” Regina repeats, smirking. “The fact he resembles your mother and has a tendency to become attached to annoying things, be they characters on a screen or real life people, tells me precisely whose _hooha_ he came from.”

“Excuse you,” Emma counters, feigning offense. She sniffs and says, “I develop attachments to rude, mean… vaguely attractive witches. If anyone is affectionate with annoying people…”

“At least you admit what you are.”

She shrugs. “It’s deliberate and I’m proud I can annoy you so well- really, I should be awarded for how annoying I am. This is pure talent, lady.”

Head shaking, Regina sighs but she’s grinning and, really, what more could anyone who is completely and utterly infatuated with her ask for?  “You’re an idiot.”

Emma grins. “And you’re a rude, mean, vaguely attractive witch.”

Another brow rises while Regina lowers her voice, tone threatening. “Vaguely?”

“Oh, did I say vaguely?” Emma holds a hand to her chest. “I meant incredibly.”

“That’s what I thought.”

  



	3. Chapter 3

It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the fact that Emma apparently has her wrapped around her finger. Despite her claim to the contrary, Regina wakes up on the couch again. She has all of about three seconds to realize this before the arms holding her captive pull her tight against a body and Emma’s breath caresses the back of her neck.

“Morning.”

Closing her eyes, she brushes aside the retort that comes to mind and simply lets herself enjoy the moment. “Morning.”

“This is the first time I’ve woken up.”

“I know.” She doesn’t understand the comment, not until the silence between them grows awkward and she remembers why it is they’re  _ here  _ to begin with. “Oh.”

Emma chuckles warmly. “No need to celebrate just yet.”

No need to celebrate ever, Regina thinks. She doesn’t  _ want _ Emma to be sick but ever since she’d brought her home, she’s refused to think about what happens when Emma is no longer sick- when she no longer needs her. “No?”

“No,” Emma repeats. She nuzzles the back of her head and says, “Probably a fluke.”

“Hmm.”

“Besides,” she adds, “you declared yourself my personal chef; you’re never getting rid of me, Your Majesty.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised the one time you listen to me involves my feeding you for the rest of your life.”

“Definitely not,” she agrees, shifting until their legs are entwined and the only way Regina might escape, should she decide she wants to, is with her magic. Emma rubs her nose along a cheek and murmurs. “No one knows me better.”

Regina snorts. It might be true- only Emma would know for certain, but she does know one thing about Emma Swan that others may not. “You mean like how I know you’re only this affectionate when you want something?”

Emma makes a sound in the back of her throat. “You’ve taken very good care of me,” she protests. “What could I possibly want that you haven’t already given me?”

She’s a good actress; Regina will give her that. “Brown nosing,” she drawls. “It must be something I would ordinarily refuse- come on, out with it.”

“Maybe I just like holding you.”

“And maybe I wasn’t born yesterday.” Sighing, Emma releases her and scoots back so they’re no longer touching. Regina misses her warmth instantly. “Emma-”

“What? I don’t want anything, so I guess I have no reason to hold you.”

Opening her eyes, Regina turns onto her other side and faces her. She says nothing, merely studying the expression Emma wears. It’s annoyed but also disappointed and, perhaps, hurt. It dawns on her then that maybe Emma wasn’t acting after all, and her heart skips at the thought.

“You like holding me?”

Chewing on her lower lip, Emma shakes her head but before Regina can mistake that as her answer, she says, “I love holding you.”

“Oh.” It’s one of  _ those _ days. “I… enjoy it.”

The corner of Emma’s mouth twitches as her eyes shine a little brighter. “Yeah?”

Regina sighs and hopes it won’t be one of those days for long. They’re precious, rare and sweet, but altogether too much before coffee.  “Yes.”

* * *

 

Emma was right; it was a fluke.

Not long after Henry has left for school, she practically runs from the kitchen as though someone is chasing her. Finishing her third cup of coffee, Regina follows shortly after, arriving just in time to hear the very first, and what sounds to be very painful, heave.

Kneeling beside her, Regina gestures to her hair. Tied up and out of the way, she places her hand on Emma’s back and begins to rub slow, soothing circles. She winces with every heave, each one sounding more painful than the first. Emma groans into the toilet bowl between bouts, paling at an alarming rate.

“Emma, I think-”

“No,” she moans the interruption, misery lacing her tone. “I know what- oh god.”

Flinching, Regina looks away as the heaving resumes. Her throat closes up and her stomach rolls in sympathy. She tries again. “Emma, you need t-”

“No.”

“But-”

“Regina,” Emma growls, lifting her head suddenly. “No doctors, especially not that smarmy, no good, middle-ages re…” She presses the back of her hand to her mouth and closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Reject,” she mumbles as the hand falls to her side. “Fuck me, that’s disgusting.”

Although in agreement, Regina ignores the comment. “I think you might be losing your magic as well,” she says, lowering her voice. “You’re too pale, Emma.”

“Okay,” she concedes. She licks her lips before taking another breath and opening her eyes. “And what do you think that fuckwit can do about it? He’s not even a real doctor, never mind a magical one.”

Regina sighs because, yes, she has a point but also because she knows how Emma is with medical professionals. Why she despises them, Regina does not know, but Emma does and unless she is bleeding profusely from the loss of a limb- and even then, she’d have to be unconscious- she would never willingly step foot inside a hospital, doctor’s office or, strangely enough, a veterinary clinic.

“Regina, I’m-.” Regina swears then and there that if Emma claims to be  _ fine _ , she’s going to drag her kicking and screaming to the hospital. “-not fine,” she admits, “but I will be. I know you’re worried but I promise, this is… better than before.”

“Before,” Regina repeats. “The last time you were sick, you mean?” Emma nods. “It’s been worse than this?”

“Yeah.” Pushing away from the toilet, Emma sits back on her heels. “The uh… first time, after the curse broke; I was bedridden. Blue gave me some kind of rejuvenation potion? I don’t know. I was really weak, but it’s not like that now. You’ve- you help.”

Regina opens her mouth but, realizing she doesn’t know what to say, she closes it again. She’s equal parts touched and concerned, and unsure which feeling she should pay more attention to. Emma might be the most stubborn headed person she knows, but she doubts Emma would risk her life merely to avoid something she finds uncomfortable.

Looking her in the eye, she nods slowly. “Promise me that if you feel any worse than you do right now, you’ll tell me and you’ll let me call a doctor.” She quickly adds when Emma grimaces, “Not Whale.”

Pale lips twitch before Emma inclines her head. “Cross my heart,” she says, and does, drawing an X over her chest. Her cheeks turn slightly pink as she nibbles her lower lip, suddenly shy for some reason. “I uh… I could use a boost. A magical one, I mean.”

Regina blinks, not expecting that. The last time she shared, it almost left them both catatonic with pleasure.. “You want me to share with you?”

Shrugging, Emma glances down at the floor. “I can understand why you might not want to, but…” She looks back up, expression hopeful. “Yeah?”

Without wasting a second, Regina replies as she gets to her feet. “Brush your teeth and meet me in the den.”

* * *

 

Emma shuffles into the den a couple of minutes later, somewhat worse for wear but getting there. She stands in the doorway, staring at the couch where Regina lies, bundled up beneath the thick nest of blankets waiting for her. Regina grins at what she supposes has to be the dumbstruck expression on her face, and crooks a finger at her.

She has never moved so fast in her life. She practically throws herself at Regina, who laughs as she somehow manages to both catch her and bury her beneath the blankets as well.

Screw magic, Emma thinks. With Regina being this grossly adorable, she’ll be better in no time.

“You know what would make this perfect?”

A brow rises slowly and Regina smiles rakishly despite the threat in her tone when she says, “If you’re about to suggest us being naked-”

Emma gasps in mock outrage. It was exactly what she was going to suggest. “I would never,” she lies, sniffing. “I was thinking marshmallows… a nice fire… maybe some mushy movie- where  _ is _ your mind at?”

Pretty brown, amused eyes roll. “Oh please,” Regina drawls, “you claim I know you best of all, then attempt such nonsense.”

Smiling softly, Emma throws an arm over her and tangles their legs together. “I am fairly predictable,” she concedes. Given their lives, she knows neither of them consider it a bad thing. “Have I told you how attractive you are today?”

“Today?” Regina tilts her head as if in thought. “No, I don’t believe you have.”

“No words.”

She smirks. “That’s a first.”

Emma pinches her hip and chides, “Be nice.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

Truer words have never been spoken. “Roleplay?”

“Oh, Miss Swan,” Regina purrs. “ I never knew you had it in you.”

Emma shivers at the words, but especially at the tone. She would give her right arm to have Regina speak to her in that tone every single day for the rest of her life, with one unfortunate exception.. “I know I generally go all gooey for that voice, but I don’t think making my stomach do the flippy thing is going to benefit either of us today.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Yes, I know.” She sighs. “Poor, sick Emma not letting the lovely Mayor torture her relentlessly for fear of throwing up on her... like she did her own mother…”

The pout that had begun to sprout on those beautiful lips vanishes and the grin returns. “How did I forget?”

“Right?” Regina, forgetting a time in which Snow White had been miserable? What is this, an alternate universe? “I thought you’d be ecstatic about it for another month, at least.”

Regina nods before adopting a contrite expression and amending, “You are a bundle of laughs- the epitome of fun.”

“ _ Thank you _ .”

Chuckling, she runs a hand down along Emma’s arm and entwines their fingers. ““Shall we?”

Emma hesitates, recalling what happened the last time they did this. It  _ is _ the best way to recharge her magic, but there were other possibilities- ones that don’t involve Regina being uncomfortable, assuming she even remembers. “You remember what-”

“I remember-” she interjects, squeezing. “-and I’m willing to tolerate your wandering hands if it means you not dying on me before I’m ready to kill you.”

Relief rushes through Emma and she cracks a smile. “That’s fair.”

“Close your eyes.”

Teasing, she questions, “Worried I’ll see you flush with pleasure?”

Regina snorts. “Worried you’ll swallow me whole with those giant, dopey saucers.”

With a sharp bark of laughter, Emma does as she’s told and closes her eyes. “Just so you know,” she says as she feels the magic begin to fill her. “I’m gonna love you for this.”

“Only for this?”

The voice is snarky- droll, but also somehow curious, and shy.

“No,” she murmurs, gripping the hand in hers tight as she presses forward, bringing their heads together. “Too many reasons,” she confesses before the magic becomes overwhelming and the ability of speech leaves her entirely.

* * *

 

Emma has to touch her, there’s no way around it. There is something about being high on magic, Regina’s specifically, that makes her think it’s possibly the greatest idea to ever be idead. The absolute best part about it though isn’t the warm, smooth skin- even if that is pretty great. It’s not even the fact Regina lets her do it- although that, also, is definitely fantastic. 

The best part, without a doubt, are the sounds that come from those impossibly kissable lips.

Regina doesn’t just enjoy her touch, she encourages it with every little hum, sigh and whimper. She tries to stifle them at first- Emma remembers that from their first time, but eventually- eventually Regina surrenders to the sensation of her hands. She makes her little, heavenly noises, and then she squirms, pushing against her in a silent bid for more until Emma is afraid the two of them will accidentally merge.

She doesn’t know what happens next. Not yet. Last time, they had just gotten to this point when Regina had gasped and their eyes had flown open as they jerked apart, as intune with each other as they’d always been.

They never talked about it because there was never anything to say, at least not on Emma’s part. She’d been with Hook back then, stupidly oblivious to everything and caught up in a lie she’d tried to tell herself for far, far too long. Maybe it was the same reason Regina never brought it up, just one of those things that was done and over with in her bid to be a good person and save the people who matter to her by any means necessary.

It certainly sounds like something Regina would say- something their son might approve of had they ever actually told anyone about that day.

Regardless, the last time was only important because it  _ happened _ , much like this time is happening right now. Admittedly, it could be better- she could  _ not _ be sick and Regina could  _ not _ be doing this to help her not  _ die _ , but beggars can’t be choosers, so the saying goes.

What’s next occurs in the following seconds. Her hand skirts higher, fingers trailing up over ribs. She can feel lace at the tips but, more important, is the warm, soft kiss pressed against her cheek- her jaw- her chin and, finally, her lips. She sighs, melting into it and giving a little hum of her own as she rolls over onto her back, dragging Regina with her.

Regina makes another sound, a little squeak of surprise that Emma swallows before coaxing more of those familiar to her. She swipes Regina’s lips with the tip of her tongue, and moans as they part to welcome her in.

They kiss slow, they kiss deep, losing count of how long or how many kisses they share. They break for air but never for long, their lips still touching with the promise of  _ we’re not done _ and  _ more, soon _ as they breathe.

It might be the fifth, or twelfth when Emma finally decides to open her eyes. Regina’s magic had tapered off long ago, leaving her full, happy- satisfied. Regina is already looking at her, seemingly having waited for her to do it before she stops kissing her.

Emma would protest, but her gaze is hooded and there’s colour in her cheeks, a small smile dotting the edges of her mouth that grows as Emma mirrors it. “You appear well on your way to health, Miss Swan.”

Staring at her mouth, Emma murmurs, “If that’s the kind of care I have to look forward to, I’m going to start praying I’m sick more often.”

The throated laughter causes her insides to twist not  _ too _ unpleasantly. “You can look forward to a lot more than that,” Regina counters, her voice breathy and low. “ _ If _ you stop fantasizing about me in a nurses outfit.”

Emma can almost feel her eyes glaze over as the thought fills her head. A soft warning growl snaps her out of it. She swallows thickly, protesting,. “You’re the one who put it there.”

“Keep it up and I’ll be putting something  _ somewhere _ .”

“Sounds like something a nurse would say.” She wiggles her eyebrows, grinning. “Promise?”

With a grumbled, “No,” Regina buries her face in Emma’s neck, and starts to laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

Sleeping on the couch for the third night in a row was out of the question, and that is how Regina wakes up in her bed the next morning on top of Emma Swan. At around 2 earlier this morning, she’d woken with a sharp pain in her back, decided she’d had enough, and dragged Emma upstairs.

It was the best night’s sleep she’s had in a very, very long time.

Even more perfect; Emma has been asleep ever since and not one of the three smoothies she’d had after topping up her magic had made a reappearance.

Smiling to herself, Regina raises her head from Emma’s chest to peer down at her. It will be nice to share a proper meal with her again rather than having to sneak off to the kitchen with their son.

With that thought, she makes to get up before she remembers it’s Saturday and glances at the clock on the bedside table. The bright red digits read 10:26. She has to do a double-take before she’s able to believe it is, in fact, the actual time; she may not be a morning person but sleeping passed 8, twice in one week? It was unheard of.

Glancing back down at Emma, she shakes her head. She wishes she could be surprised but if she’s being honest with herself, she’s really not. There isn’t a single person in any world that can relax or comfort her better than Emma can. Why should that fact change simply because the woman happens to be unconscious?

Smiling again, she leans down and kisses the corner of Emma’s mouth when all of a sudden she’s trapped, laughing as Emma circles her waist with strong arms and flips her onto her back before she settles on top of her.

Emma grins down at her, looking beyond pleased with herself. “Good morning.”

“Yes,” Regina agrees, lids fluttering as Emma comes in for a proper kiss. She sighs against that perfect mouth and threads a hand through sleep-mussed hair. When they part, she purrs, “A  _ very _ good morning, indeed.”

Emma winks. “Only the best for my Majesty.”

As Emma lifts herself up, Regina catches the flex of muscles from the corner of her eye, and stares. She’s a little breathless when she agrees once again. “Yes.”

“Madam Mayor, are you objectifying me?”

Still staring at her bicep, she can’t see Emma’s grin but she can tell she doesn’t mind by her tone and admits shamelessly, “Oh yes.”

“Good,” Emma chuckles before she bows her head and kisses her cheek. “I’m starving and it’s- christ, is that really what time it is?”

“Mhmm.” Regina strokes her arm, fingers brushing up over her bicep before wrapping around it. Feeling it flex this time, she can’t help but groan,. “Dear god.”

Laughing outright, Emma kisses her cheek again, then rolls off to the side. She quickly gets up from the bed to stretch, giving Regina something far more tantalizing to stare at as her tank rides up to reveal her toned, mouth-watering stomach.

As someone who has seen the way Emma eats when she isn’t sick, as well as having heard her whine innumerable times when she has to do something as strenuous as getting up from the couch and walking to the kitchen herself to get something to eat or drink, Regina is simply  _ infuriated _ .

“How in the hell are you so fit?”

Emma guffaws. “I workout.”

“ _ When _ ?”

“Here and there,” she replies, grinning. “You getting up? I’m going to shower, and then I’ll need food.”

“Oh I see.” Rising onto her elbows, Regina narrows her eyes. “Now that you’re better, I’m going to have to deal with you bossing  _ me _ around, hmm?”

Emma flashes an innocent smile. “Only if you ask nicely.”

* * *

 

Regina is finishing up the eggs when Emma clomps her way downstairs and wanders into the kitchen. “Apparently Dad is having too much fun with Killian and doesn’t want me at work until Monday.”

“I assume you have no complaints about that?”

“Not a one,” she admits with a chuckle.

“Typical small town Sheriff.”

“Yup. What’s for breakfast?”

Regina gestures to the counter where multiple plates sit covered to keep the food warm. “Take your pick,” she says, adding the eggs to the mix.

Lifting the covers to peek at their contents, Emma whistles. “Damn woman.”

In truth, Regina had no idea what to cook before she decided on a little bit of everything; eggs, french toast, bacon- those little breakfast sausages she has seen Emma gorge herself on at the diner more than once. “Your body annoys me,” she lies, moving to the coffeemaker.

With another chuckle, Emma walks over to her and embraces her from behind. “So, you’ve decided you’re going to make me fat, huh?”

“Yes.” Regina turns just enough to kiss her on the lips before pouring them each a cup. “You’ll be the size of a house by the time I’m done with you.”

Emma snorts. “Well, I’m not going to complain,” she says, “but you might if you ever wanna see me naked.”

Biting her lower lip, Regina wrinkles her nose. She hadn’t thought of that but, certain she’d sleep with her regardless, she retorts, “I’ll worry about that  _ after _ you’ve taken me on a date.”

“Please, I’ve been dating you for the last six months, at least.”

Regina tilts her head, considering. There have been a lot of lunches and dinners, just the two of them, since Emma sent the pirate packing. She concedes, “You may have a point.”

“I  _ do _ have a point,” Emma insists and kisses the back of her head. She pulls away, taking the coffee Regina hands her, and takes a seat at the counter.  “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Turning, Regina cocks her brow. “I expect more than that for putting up with you.”

“And here I thought you did it out of the kindness of your heart.”

She scoffs. It’s like Emma doesn’t know her at all. “That’s the second time in less than 24 hours you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“Alright.” Emma rolls her eyes and asks, “ How can I repay you, your Queenliness?”

Regina smirks. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“I’m already thinking of something.”

Momentarily taken aback by the lusty look Emma throws her way, Regina inhales sharply. She shakes her head. “You’ve a one track mind, Miss Swan,” she chides, half-hearted at best.

“I’m sure more tracks will open up once I find out how loud you can scream.”

Her stomach flips and she swallows thickly. She takes a sip from her coffee to buy herself some time to compose herself, then sets her cup down. “Eat your breakfast,” she murmurs. “I’m going to wake our son before you get yourself in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble.”

Strangling a groan, Regina quickly walks passed her. “ _ Eat _ ,” she repeats over a shoulder, almost missing Emma’s teasing reply as she exits the kitchen.

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

 

Messing with Regina is fun, Emma has decided. That isn’t to say she wouldn’t, quite literally, drop her pants if Regina so much as looked at her a certain way, but until such a time, making Regina blush and mutter things under her breath is a highly entertaining way to pass the time.

After being cooped up in the house for three days straight, they decide to go for a walk. They’d invited Henry to come along but having had breakfast with them, he’d declared them together too embarrassing to be seen out in public with and happily declined the invitation.

Emma isn’t in the least bit torn up about it, even when Regina blamed her. It was her fault, and she happily accepted the blame. She loves Henry beyond measure but for the most part, any teasing she’d done over breakfast had been light and nowhere near as flirty, or dirty, as she would have liked.

Hands in her pockets, she saunters alongside Regina, appreciating the latest hue she’d brought to those cheeks. She wants to kiss her, has wanted to since the moment she woke up pinned to the bed- since she’d driven into town all those years ago and watched as the woman half-ran down the footpath to hug her ten year old, runaway son. 

Despite all the times they have kissed, the urge remains, and she knows now that it most likely always will.

“Where are we going?”

Regina quickly glances at her before looking away. “I wasn’t aware I needed to plan a specific destination.”

Knowing she’ll see it from the corner of her eye, Emma shrugs. “Somewhere to makeout in peace would be nice.” She grins, hit with an idea. “The beach,” she suggests, “maybe the park… my bedroom-  _ your _ bedroom.”

“Short walk,” Regina quips before she sighs. “Would us having sex lessen your constant desire to tease me?”

“No.” After resisting for all this time, she doesn’t even need to think about it. Emma admits, “I have about five years of making up to do.”

Regina huffs, muttering, “We could always  _ not _ have sex.”

“That’s an option,” Emma agrees, unperturbed. “I haven’t had to masturbate in a while, but...”

Trailing off when Regina grabs her hand, she laughs, delighted as she’s dragged into the alley not two feet from them and shoved against the nearest wall. “You’re impossible,” Regina growls, then kisses her.

Emma grabs onto her hips and kisses her back. It starts slow like their first before she slips her tongue between plump lips, eager to explore Regina’s hot, silky mouth. Regina catches it in her teeth, biting lightly, then sucking- moaning as Emma slides her hands over her hips and down, palming the cheeks of her ass and rubbing against her.

“Well-” 

Jerking at the voice, Regina quickly tries to pull away. Emma holds onto her, unashamed as she turns her head to meet her ex-boyfriend’s stare head on. She expects to find judgment or one of those pitiful faces he used to give her to try and make her feel bad, but Killian is grinning at her. 

“That explains everything.”

Great, she thinks. Not judging or pity inducing, but leering, as if Regina isn’t the type to incinerate him for it. Emma raises her brow and drawls, “Really?”

“Yes.” Killian looks from her to Regina. His grin grows tenfold before he turns back to Emma and says,  “Can’t say I blame you, love. She is rather-”

“Finishing that,” Regina interjects, teeth clenched, “would be ill-advised, pirate.”

He raises hand and hook. “I was only going to compliment you, love.”

Regina snorts, eyes rolling. “I want your compliments about as much as I want an STD- speaking of, don’t you have a job to do?”

Killian smirks as he glances at Emma. “Feisty one, isn’t she?”

Emma sighs, promptly catching the hand that flies out to- well, she has no idea. The possibilities of what Regina could do to him with little more than a flick of her wrist are almost limitless. She tugs the hand between them and places it against her stomach, then returns his stare.

“Now would be a good time to go away.”

“Yes,” he agrees, surprising them both. He clears his throat and flashes them a smile. “I’m happy for you both, and I promise not to tell.”

As he turns and continues on his way toward the station, Emma stares out onto the road. “Did he just-”

“Yes.”

“I don’t-”  _ believe it. _

“No,” Regina murmurs, running her fingers along Emma’s abdominals. “Me neither.”

Glancing at her and seeing her dazed expression, Emma chuckles and kisses her softly on the lips. “Home?”

“Good idea.”

Emma grins. “I have my moments.”

* * *

 

They appear in Regina’s bedroom. Regina doesn’t say anything before she leans in for another kiss and although Emma knows not to get her hopes up, her heart starts to race anyway.

“I didn’t think you’d want people to know,” Regina says, lips moving to the corner of her mouth and up, over her cheek.

Emma frowns, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m me,” Regina replies, nipping the lobe of her ear. She breathes, “And you’re you.”

Emma shivers. If anything, the answer is all the reason she  _ should _ want people to know. She swallows against the lump gathering in her throat and croaks, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“No?” Regina retreats far enough to meet her gaze. Emma shakes her head. “Oh.”

“Yes.” Cupping her cheek, Emma pulls her back and kisses her again before she explains, “There is no one else like you, Regina Mills; how could I not want people to know how lucky I am?”

Cheeks pinking, Regina huffs a laugh. “You  _ can _ be charming after all.”

“I  _ am _ me,” Emma drawls with a grin.

“Charming by nature, pervert by choice?”

Bringing their heads together, she smiles. “Uh huh.”

Noses bumping in what almost feels like a caress, she sighs against the soft lips that follow. She removes her hand from Regina’s cheek and settles it in the crook of her neck, stroking her jaw as they kiss.

A hand on her chest brings about the end too soon. Emma pouts but then Regina pushes and she stumbles, her knees hitting the bed before her ass follows suit. Regina quickly straddles her, staring into eyes growing wide in realization when she says, “No sex.”

“No sex,” Emma repeats, already nodding. When it does happen, and she is more certain now than she’s ever been that it will, she wants to take her time, and she definitely doesn’t want to do it with their son in the house.“Who needs sex?”

She captures Regina’s mouth before she can respond, instantly deepening the kiss and drawing a wanton little moan, the likes of which she promises herself she  _ will _ cause again when she can react to it with all the enthusiasm the sound demands.

For the time being, she slips her hands beneath Regina’s skirt and strokes her thighs, inching higher as the kiss wears on, but not quite as high as she’d like. Regina reciprocates, only her hands are underneath Emma’s shirt, fingers playing over the notches of her spine and causing her skin to prickle in pleasure.

When those same fingers skirt around to her front to dance along the undersides of her breasts, she sighs softly and breaks the kiss. She moves her lips to Regina’s jaw and kisses a trail down her neck, all the way to her collarbone where she spends ample time bestowing as much attention as Regina will allow.

Regina, as it turns out, will allow  _ a lot _ . She only stops her when Emma bites down, and only to inform her that if she continues, she will not be hiding what Emma has done to her.

The warning only spurs Emma on and when she bites down for the second time, Regina groans. “Who knew the Sheriff was so good with her mouth?”

Bathing the bite with her tongue, Emma hums before she raises her head. “You don’t,” she says, “but you will.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Fogged from her shower, Regina swipes her hand across the bathroom mirror. She isn’t sure what to expect, but when she gazes at the bruising along her neck, throat and collarbone, she gasps softly. Realizing the number Emma has done her, her mouth twitches before pulling into a small smile. 

If Emma had wanted her to look like the human embodiment of a rorschach test, then she has succeeded spectacularly. If Regina didn’t know any better, she’d assume she was assaulted in her sleep last night.

“You certainly don’t half-ass things, do you, Miss Swan,” she murmurs to herself, chucking lightly as she runs her fingers over the marks. “I may need to cover these after all.”

It was one thing to flaunt Emma’s desire for her openly, but it was quite another to let people assume she’d been brutally attacked, and she zero doubts that that is exactly what the townsfolk will assume, idiots that they often are.

Drying herself and dressing quickly, she leaves her neck exposed for the time being and returns to her bedroom to show Emma her handiwork. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Emma cracks an eye open. “Wha?” She raises her head from where it’s buried in Regina’s pillow and opens the other eye, rubbing them, and then blinking them rapidly. “Woah.”

Regina smirks, teasing, “Woah? You do this-” She gestures to her neck, brow raised. “-and all you have to say is  _ woah _ ?” Head thumping back against the pillow, Emma tries and fails to hide her grin. Regina nods. “I see; so very proud of yourself, you’re speechless.”

Stalking over to the bed, she climbs on and straddles Emma’s lower back. Emma wriggles beneath her, but stills almost immediately, seemingly content where she is as she turns her head to question, “What are you doing?”

“Payback,” Regina replies. She pushes her hair aside, revealing Emma’s neck, and leans forward, mouth poised over her pulse. “Objections?”

Emma’s lips part to respond but she hesitates. Regina kisses the spot just beneath her ear, hoping to reassure her. Emma sighs before she smiles and says, “Aside from the fact I could easily reverse our positions…”

“Ah.” Stomach rolling pleasantly at the thought and what it implies, Regina chuckles as she reaches beneath the pillow for her hands and grips her wrists, pinning them there. “Anything else?”

“No...”

Sensing further hesitation, Regina grazes teeth across the skin of her neck, prompting, “Certain?”

Emma groans, a hint of red in her cheeks before she tries to bury her face in the pillow. Even more curious now, Regina teases her pulse, first with the slow strokes of her tongue, and then with more teeth, nibbling a line to her jaw where she places her first bite.

Emma hums, body melting beneath her.

“Tell me.” Emma shakes her head and Regina growls, “Tell me... or I’ll stop.”

Something akin to a muffled whine sounds from the pillow. “Want to feel you,” Emma mumbles. “The blanket,” she starts to explain before Regina understands.

“Oh.” Regina waves a hand, sending the duvet to the floor. She then recaptures Emma’s wrist, humming as the heat from Emma’s hips warms her inner thighs and she coos, “Another good idea.”

“I told you I have them,” Emma mutters before she sighs and turns her head again, resting her cheek against the pillow. “You feel good.”

Smiling, Regina kisses her cheek. “As do you,” she assures. Tongue clucking against the roof of her mouth, she lowers her voice and chides, “Now stop distracting me when there’s payback to be had.”

“Bring it.”

She laughs. “Oh, Miss Swan,” she purrs, “I fully intend to.”

* * *

 

“Mom?” Henry tries the handle. When that doesn’t work, he knocks on the bedroom door and whines, “Moooom, I’m hungry.”

Regina growls, releasing the skin between her teeth as she raises her head. She shoots Emma a look for failing to stifle her snickering. “Son,” she calls out. “I’ve been teaching you to cook since you were 8 years old.”

“But-”

“No buts,” she interrupts, unable to stop her grin when more snickering ensues. She rolls her eyes at Emma, the immature twit. “Mommy is busy,” she continues. “Go away, child.”

Henry sighs loud enough for the sound to seep through the door. Regina waits and when nothing else is forthcoming, she flicks her wrist at the wall, watching him shuffle down the hallway, muttering to himself.

“Neat trick,” Emma murmurs when the wall shimmers, no longer transparent. “You’ll have to teach me that one too.”

“Mhmm,” Regina hums, knowing better than to make any sort of promises. It’s going to be interesting enough teaching Emma to make things bigger without then having to watch her abuse the power for the most asinine things; she sees a lot of oversized donuts in her future. “Now, where were we?”

Emma snorts. “You were seeing how difficult you could make it for me to sit comfortably for the next month,” she drawls as she peers at her over a shoulder. “Am I supposed to believe you forgot?”

“Oh no.” Smoothing her hands over nicely reddened, teeth-ravaged cheeks, Regina squeezes her ass and purrs, “Merely ensuring you haven’t.” Swatting both cheeks, she says, “Time to turn over, I think.”

She rises onto her knees and waits for Emma to roll onto her back before sitting back down. Emma grins up at her. “You’re running out of skin, Regina.”

She hums again, eyes roaming the reverse, and so far blank, side of her canvas. “Perhaps I’ll get lucky and the rest of your clothes will vanish completely on their own.”

Emma smirks. “That’s only going to happen if you promise  _ I’m _ going to get lucky.”

Pouting, Regina questions, “You don’t like my art?”

“I like the feel of it.” Placing a hand on each of her thighs, Emma strokes with her thumbs. “And you,” she adds, daring to go higher. Regina moans. “If we don’t stop soon…”

Regina closes her eyes, savouring the sensation. She doesn’t want to stop. From that first bite, she’d known it was going to be almost impossible. She’s never been the type of person who denies herself the things she wants and with Emma touching her, she can’t help but wonder why she would- why she  _ should _ .

“I’m not finished,” she says, lids fluttering. She stares down at Emma and brings a hand to her chest, drawing fingers over the top of each breast. Just the thought of sinking her teeth in here is enough for her mouth to water and unadulterated want to fill her.

Emma smiles, her expression wry. “Don’t make me be the adult here, Regina; you know I hate that.”

Huffing a laugh, she inclines her head, conceding the truth of the matter. If Emma is capable of hating anything, then it is definitely that. Still, at the thought of stopping, she pouts. “Just a little longer?” She injects as much hope into her voice as possible, more than aware of exactly how manipulative she needs to be in order for Emma to let her have her way.

It works, though not quite in the way she expects it to.

“Tell you what,” Emma says, removing the hands from her thighs and putting them behind her. She pushes herself up, completely disarming Regina with a kiss. “Ten more minutes,” she offers, pressing a finger to her lips when Regina tries to accept. “Ten more minutes,” she reiterates, “and if you stop-  _ if _ , you can do this as often as you want.”

Regina narrows her eyes. “And if I don’t?”

Emma smirks. “If you don’t, then when you wake up tomorrow morning, you won’t sneak off to have your little shower without me.”

* * *

 

Exactly forty three minutes. 

Emma was certain Regina would stop at ten without a single second to spare. She was slowly beginning to understand that when it comes to Regina, she could never be more wrong; ten minutes passed without her even knowing it, and when she finally sought out the time, she’d been surprised to find twenty five of them had come and gone.

Eighteen minutes later, she was covered from head to toe, or at least what  _ felt _ like head to toe, in bites. When she pointed out the fact that meant Regina had lost their deal, Regina had only grinned, voice light- almost singsong when she replied, “Did I now?”

Emma was, for lack of a better word, delighted with this turn of events. She wondered all throughout breakfast and most of the day if that meant Regina would have been amenable to her suggestion of them sharing a shower together before. If so, she doesn’t think anyone would blame her for being confused. In her experience, showering together was considered a little more intimate than sex, and since their very first kiss, Regina has been refusing her  _ that _ .

Not that she’d actually asked…

Was that the real deal? Should she have asked, or has Regina devised some kind of plan to renege? Would she just choose not to shower tomorrow? She  _ would _ be the type; Emma realizes this just after dinner. It deflates her a little, or a lot. She’d been so high on the thought during the day, only for her brain to kick in when she’s winding down and taking the time to actually think about it.

A little, or a lot; Regina notices.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says as they’;re doing the dishes. “Not that I’m complaining,” she adds, accepting the plate Emma pulls from the sink and hands to her. “Really, I’m rather thrilled you’ve finally shut up- teasing me all day and making jokes with our son at my… Emma?”

All the concern that laces her name snaps her from her daze. “Huh?”

Regina frowns. “Are you still feeling sick? I thought-”

“No,” she interjects, head shaking. She sighs inwardly before offering Regina a small smile. “Sorry- just thinking too much.”

“About?” Regina cocks a brow when she doesn’t answer right away. “Should I be worried?”

Her turn to frown, Emma questions, “Why would you- no.” She rolls her eyes at herself. It’s a stupid thing to be worried about. So what if Regina reneges? It won’t be the end of the world, and it’s not like it will  _ never _ happen. She shrugs. “I was just daydreaming.”

“Hmm.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Regina doesn’t believe her; Emma figures it out from the sound alone, and Regina’s expression when she glances at her only confirms it. Regina lets it go surprisingly quickly though, changing the subject when she says, “I’ve been wondering when you plan to return to your home,”

Emma’s stomach sinks. She hasn’t thought about it, not once. 

Glaring down at the remaining dishes, she scrubs the last plate a little harder than is likely necessary. “Tomorrow, I- I guess,” she answers eventually. “I could probably go tonight if you-”

“I don’t,” Regina interrupts as she rests a hand on her arm. “I’m not kicking you out.” After another minutes, she admits, “Truthfully, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Oh.” This time, Emma deflates with relief, the thought slipping freely from her mouth. “For fuck sakes.” Regina gazes at her, blinking back surprise and Emma simply laughs, grateful it doesn’t sound like the sob she was certain would come instead. “You almost broke my fucking heart.”

“Oh.”

_ Oh _ .

That’s it before Regina grabs her shoulder and spins her around. She captures her mouth in a kiss so scorching it takes Emma a minute to catch up, and then she’s kissing her back, hands flailing for something to grab onto because they’re sudsy and moment or no, she’s pretty sure Regina will kill her if she grabs her hips and ruins her fancy clothes.

She settles on the bench and counter, a hand on each, positive the stance makes her look like an utter spaz but unable to give a single fuck when Regina’s tongue is so deep in her mouth.

It doesn’t take long for her arms to protest, stretched as they are, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, she decides, because Regina is suddenly gripping her shirt and tugging Emma into her as she leans back against the counter. Regina yanks her shirt out from her jeans and slips underneath, fingers splaying across her stomach before sliding to her hips and around to her back.

Emma presses against her, groaning into the kiss as she’s reminded of the bruises that cover her body, and encouraged by the nails at the base of her spine. She presses harder with a whimper, attention drawn to the bruises on her chest. Her nipples stiffen beneath her shirt, feeling Regina moan in response more than she hears it.

The sensation pierces the haze that had clouded her mind at the first touch of those lips. She breaks the kiss to stare, breathless and a little bit confused. Regina pulls a hand out from under her shirt and places it against her cheek, both hands stroking back and cheek in tandem, softly, warmly; offering comfort and reassurance.

Regina smiles in the silence. Emma almost closes her eyes, fearful of being blinded by its intensity. Never has she ever seen something so bright. “I know I tell you this everyday-” she murmurs, a little awed and a lot in love, “-but you are gorgeous.” 

Regina’s cheeks colour but Emma can tell she’s pleased when her smile softens. “You are sweet.” Hands pausing mid-stroke, Regina draws the hand from her cheek and touches her lips, adding, “And a damn fine kisser.”

Emma grins, more than pleased.

“I would never…” Lowering the hand to her chest and placing it over her heart, Regina continues, “Never dream that I could, let alone that I would.”

“I know.” Emma sighs and captures the hand, entwining their fingers before bringing them back to her mouth and kissing her knuckles. “But you do- you could.”

Looking more determined than Emma can remember her ever being, Regina narrows her eyes and promises, “I won’t.”

* * *

 

They watched a movie before bed. If anyone asked, Emma wouldn’t be able to tell them what it was called, what it was about, or who was even in it. All she could tell them with absolute certainty was that Henry had picked it. He, along with Regina, seemed enthralled with it, whatever it was. Emma was more interested in feigning sleep while fingers played through her hair.

The feigning sleep part wasn’t even necessary. As soon as they sat down, she’d put her head in Regina’s lap, and Regina had acted as though she were one hundred percent fine with it from the get go. For some reason, pretending just made it more special. Maybe it was because the small bit of attention wasn’t  predicated on her being aware of it, or maybe it was because, like Regina had always said, Emma was an idiot.

Either way, it was the only thing Emma could focus on. It was soothing in a way that very little else in her life ever had been. She was confident that was solely a Regina thing rather than a “she likes people playing with her hair” thing- mostly because she didn’t, and never had until Regina.

After the movie ends and Henry wanders upstairs, neither of them move, save for those fingers. Emma wonders if it’s because Regina finds it as soothing as she does, or if it’s because she genuinely believes her to be asleep and doesn’t want to wake her.

Either way, she’s warm from thinking about it and if she happens to be smiling because of it, then- well; people always told her when she was younger that she should smile more.

They never told her what it was she should have smiled about, but if she had a Regina back then, she knows she would have done nothing but.

When Regina shifts, Emma almost raises her head. As comfortable as she is, she’s known Regina long enough now to know she doesn’t like to sit still for long, especially when she has nothing to do.

Regina stills, however, sighing softly as she draws the fingers from her hair to trace down her nose and across her cheek. “It bothers me how much I want to kiss you,” she says quietly, “even when you’re a terrible faker.”

Peeking an eye open, Emma pouts. “How’d you know?”

“You move around in your sleep,” she replies, cupping her cheek. “You’re like a child who’s had too much sugar and can’t keep still.” Thumb stroking beneath her eye, she adds, “I find it endearing… which also bothers me, incase you were wondering.”

Emma rolls her eyes, exasperated but equally amused. “I wasn’t,” she says, “Everything bothers you, why should I be any different?”

“Fair enough.” Regina smiles and bends forward, kissing her lightly. She winces as she straightens. “That was an awful idea.”

Emma disagrees. “Not for me it wasn’t. In fact, I could do with another few… hundred... of those.”

“Appealing as that sounds, I am not going to put my back out for you.” Despite the words, Regina does kiss her again. Emma raises a hand and clasps the back of her neck, prolonging the kiss a little longer before letting her go. Straightening once more, Regina grimaces. “I’m too old for this.”

Emma snorts and sits up. “Drama queen.”

“Bite me.” As Regina rises from the couch and raises her hands over her head to stretch, Emma stands and wraps her arms around her, hands slipping effortlessly beneath her blouse. “Don’t start.”

She chuckles and kisses her neck. “When did I stop?”

“You do realize we have work tomorrow.” At her silence, Regina sighs and explains, “I will need to be up early to shower.”

Eyes widening and feeling giddy all of a sudden, Emma quickly turns her around. Having all of her fears washed away as easily as that, she kisses her firmly, deeply- passionately on the lips. Regina groans into her mouth before jerking back, breathless and glaring.

Emma grins as she grabs her hand and pulls her from the room towards the stairs, declaring, “To bed!”

Regina sighs, louder this time. “Idiot.”


	6. Chapter 6

Regina has the forethought to sleep on the side of the bed closest to her alarm. She turns it off the second she wakes. It isn’t due to go off for another hour, but she wants to be the one to wake Emma when the time comes. She has a lot of ideas for how to do it, many of them she believes Emma will appreciate, few she won’t, amusing as they would be for her personally..

For the time being, Regina watches her sleep. She watches as Emma twists and turns, rolling toward her one minute only to roll away with the next. Emma really does move around too much, bringing the term restless sleeper to a whole new level of her own.

If it were anyone else, Regina is certain the fact would annoy her beyond description. Why she thinks it endearing when it’s Emma, she hasn’t a clue. It isn’t as if how she feels has stopped her from finding some of Emma’s other habits annoying; like how she always leaves the last half an inch of milk in the bottle rather than drink it, or tip it down the sink, or how she likes to crack her knuckles at the most random times because  _ my hands feels weird, Regina _ .

Regina still has no idea what the hell that means.

And remembering that conversation still makes her smile, damn it.

She’s doomed, she supposes. Doomed to adore this impossible, irritating woman who can, and happily does, infuriate her, often and without shame or apology.

If anyone were to tell her she could possibly be any happier than she is in this very moment, she wouldn’t believe them.

As Emma rolls toward her for the fifth time in as many minutes, she scoots forward and takes her into her arms. Emma stiffens momentarily before letting out a sigh and relaxing, nose burying itself in the crook of Regina’s neck and inhaling her scent.

Emma groans a split-second later and presses lips to her pulse. Before she can awaken completely on her own, Regina easily slides her hands beneath Emma’s tight boy-shorts, gripping her ass and laughing when Emma greets her.

“Well, hello there.”

“Hello,” she purrs, squeezing. “This isn’t quite how I imagined waking you.”

Emma hums, murmuring, “Had plans, did you?”

“Oh yes,” Regina admits. Feigning put upon, she sighs woefully and says, “Alas, you’ve ruined them, as per usual.”

“Damn me.” Emma nudges her and, chuckling, Regina turns onto her back, brow rising as Emma then climbs on top of her. Emma blows the hair that falls across her eyes away and wrinkles her nose. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t complain.”

“My hands are rather nice,” Regina concedes, mouth quirking. “To be fair; they’re nowhere near as nice as what they’re holding.”

“I beg to differ.” Emma bows her head as she disagrees, capturing her mouth before Regina can argue. They both groan as their tongues meet and slide against each other. Emma pulls away after a minute, whispering, “Best way to wake up… ever.”

The sheer, genuine innocence of the comment makes Regina smile. Thoughts far from innocent, however, she shakes her head. She raises her hand, brushing aside the hair that appears rather intent on blinding Emma and tucking it behind her ear as she purrs, “In that case, you will be positively comatose with pleasure for every morning following, in which you wake in my bed; I guarantee it.”

“Shit.”

Her laughter at the swear is muffled as Emma crashes their lips together, tongue thrusting into her mouth. Regina moans and tangles her fingers in Emma’s hair, determined to surrender even the smallest of breaths for one of those long, passionate kisses she has discovered Emma is so good at.

Emma, unfortunately, has other ideas and breaks the kiss after only a few short seconds. “I believe I was promised a shower this morning,” she mumbles against her cheek, trailing kisses along her jaw to her ear. She licks the lobe, then breathes, “Time to get naked, Regina.”

Laughing, Regina shoves her shoulder, pushing her off. She sits up with a roll of her eyes, tempted to refute the claim that she’d made any promises, but she doesn’t want to upset Emma. Instead, she throws her duvet back and swings her legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through her hair as she stands.

She turns around to look down at Emma, eyes traveling from her neck to her chest and down her arms to the sliver of skin exposed by a crumpled tank. Regina’s tongue flickers across her lower lip in appreciation. Her marks are everywhere, purpling flesh wherever her gaze roams.

“I suppose you do deserve a reward,” she muses aloud.  A pity, she thinks, she can’t leave Emma like this. “I will heal those… after.”

Emma scowls. “No you bloody won’t.” She rolls from the bed, popping up beside her and wrapping arms around her. “Unless you plan to add more, you’re not touching them.”

Regina’s mind bulks at the words. “You cannot be serious,” she protests, grabbing her by the hips when she attempts to retreat. “Emma, if you go to work looking like that, someone is going to assume I’ve been abusing you for all this time.”

“No one...” Pausing, Emma frowns before shaking her head and amending, “I’ll cover them. It’ll be fine.”

“Cover them?” Regina snorts. “Unless you’re prepared to celebrate Halloween early and pretend you’re a ghost un-”

“Listen here, drama queen,” Emma interjects. At her raised brow, she quickly kisses her. “I’ll use makeup or I’ll hide them with magic, but I’m not getting rid of them. I earned them,” she insists. “They’re mine.”

The possessive little growl that punctuates the words takes away any of the fight Regina has left. She can’t be comfortable but if that’s the way Emma feels, then what right does she have to take that away from her?

“Very well,” she relents, warming when Emma grins. “Shall we have that shower today, or have you changed your mind about that?”

Grin widening, Emma begins walking her backwards around the bed towards the ensuite bathroom. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Regina smirks. “Not particularly.”

* * *

 

She’s fully prepared to take it slow. Emma, on the other hand, is out of the few clothes she’d worn to bed before the water has a chance to warm and when Regina turns around after fiddling with the shower, her jaw drops at the sight. Emma meets her stare, lips slowly spreading into a grin as she crosses the slight distance between them, the predatory gleam in her eyes creating a delicious frisson of excitement. 

Hot all of a sudden, Regina goes to step back but. Emma reaches for her, a hand fisting in her negligee. She tugs and Regina stumbles, gasping as she molds to all of that sweet flesh.

“Oh god.”

The desire to touch is overwhelming. As if possessing a mind of their own, her palms glide across naked hips and down to cradle the warm, soft cheeks of Emma’s ass as she groans. She buries her face in Emma’s neck when Emma chuckles and fingers begin to caress down her sides, not quite tickling but teasing, causing her skin to prickle and her arousal to flare so hot it feels like she’s burning from the inside out.

Any semblance of control Regina thought she might have is nonexistent. Turned on beyond belief, she rubs herself against Emma like a cat in heat, needing her more desperately than she can remember ever needing anyone.

“Regina.” Emma’s tone is chiding but the rasp of her name does nothing to dampen her desire and she whimpers as those fingers dip down to her waist, tracing the curve of her hips before curling around them, gripping them tight and forcing her still. “I don’t like cold showers, Regina.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she takes a breath before opening them again and lifting her head. Seeing the desire staring back at her, she strangles another whimper and straightens. “I’m-”

Emma leans in, silencing what would have been an apology with her mouth. Hands releasing her hips, Regina moans as she feels them slide down her thighs. Emma grips the hem of her negligee and slowly draws it over her body, ending the kiss as it reaches her neck and she pulls it up over her head, flinging it away.

Regina tries to lean in to resume the kiss but Emma stops her with a hand on her chest, stepping back. There’s no time for confusion or disappointment as Regina gazes into those eyes, watching as they make a painstakingly slow sweep down her body and back up again.

Biting her lip, Emma curls her hand, nails scratching against skin as she guides them between breasts and down Regina’s stomach, fingers skipping over her navel. She squirms, breath hitching as one lone digit burrows beneath the waistband of her panties.

Understanding the question in the tilt of a head and the eyes gazing at her, her mouth dries and she swallows roughly, nodding. Emma, more gracefully than anyone who knows her might expect her capable of, falls to her knees as she tucks another finger into the waistband and slowly, teasingly drags Regina’s panties down her thighs.

Once they pool at her feet, she kicks them aside. Looking down, she throbs at the thought of grabbing Emma by the head  and burying her face between her legs.

Before she can give in to temptation, Emma rises, hands skating up the backs of her thighs, over the swell of her ass and up her spine. She caresses the back of her neck before threading fingers in her hair and pulling her close. Regina hums, the press of their breasts sending a thrill through her as Emma kisses her, long, languid and deep.

She groans into Emma’s mouth as she’s backed into the shower, the warmth of the water in combination with the warmth of Emma’s skin creating a slickness between her thighs that’s impossible to ignore.

“Tell me what you want,” Emma murmurs against her mouth, nipping her lower lip.

“You.”

She chuckles. “That’s sweet, but not what I meant.” Pulling back, she raises a brow and questions, “Hands or mouth?”

“Uh.” Although Regina assumed they would get there sooner or later, she’s not ready for the thought of either, or. “I have to choose?”

Emma smirks. “Both it is.”

* * *

 

Emma presses Regina into the wall with her body. She takes a moment to revel in the sensation of warm, wet skin against her own before she curls a hand over a hip and cups Regina's cheek with the other, kissing her softly on the lips.

She moves before either of them can deepen it, aware of what little time they have as she descends. She trails a line of heated kisses along Regina's jaw and down to her throat, pausing at her collarbone to admire the smattering of bruises she'd left the day before, before moving on.

When she reaches those perfect breasts that have taunted her for years, she nuzzles them gently- almost reverently, and savours the husked, knowing chuckle from above. She is predictable, and often very single-minded when it comes to Regina; it surprises her not at all, and bothers her even less, that Regina knows what to expect.

Nipping each breast, she hums and continues onward, wishing she had the time to give them the attention they so rightly deserve, but knowing they don’t as she falls to her knees once more.

Lowering her hands, she grips Regina’s thighs and glances up. “When we do this again-” she says, confident- determined. “-and we  _ will _ , I want hours.”

Gaze hooded, Regina smiles as she threads a hand through her hair. “We will,” she agrees, voice little more than a croak. “Tonight,” she adds, her smile widening with Emma’s eyes. “I have very big plans for you, Miss Swan.”

Heat surges through Emma with the words. She briefly closes her eyes, humming as she imagines all number of scenarios for what those plans might be, before she opens them again and offers up a lopsided grin. “Looking forward to it.”

Chuckling, Regina scratches her head, gazing down on her with what looks like affection. “Speaking of looking forward to things…” 

She raises a brow and Emma takes the hint, still grinning. As soon as she leans in, though, the grin falls, giving way to parted lips and the appreciative moan that falls from them as she breathes in Regina’s scent. It makes her mouth water, and then she’s peeling back Regina’s folds with the pads of her thumbs and slipping in between, her next moan longer but nowhere near as loud as the one from above as Regina immediately grabs her head in both hands and rocks against her mouth.

She tastes even better than she smells, better, even, than Emma had imagined. A heady combination of tangy and sweet coats her tongue and slickens her mouth, Regina already so wet that Emma feels a sliver of guilt for making her wait, despite how short of a wait it actually was.

Dismissing the feeling, she resolves not to make her wait any longer, to make her come as quickly, and explosively, as possible. Emma releases her grip on thighs and strokes both hands down and around, fingers caressing firm cheeks before clutching them and hooking her elbows behind Regina’s knees.

Regina buckles, gasping as she then stands with her atop broad shoulders. “Oh god, Emma, what-” Her breath hitches, lids fluttering as Emma buries her tongue deep inside of her. Thighs clenching, she digs her heels into Emma’s spine and breathes, “Fuck.”

Emma hums agreeably. Her knees hate her for it, but she knows. She knows there is one thing about her that turns Regina on like nothing else, and more than happy to take advantage of the fact as she thrusts into her, tongue pistoning in and out as her biceps flex beneath strong, quivering thighs.

Regina’s pleasure fills the air surrounding them and she clings to Emma’s head as though her life depends on it, hips rolling into each thrust. Emma enjoys every second, particularly those in which Regina groans her name like it’s a curse and she’s going to rue the day she made her lose control like this.

When Regina comes mere minutes later, she’s much more quiet. Emma’s only warning is the clenching around her tongue and a sharp inhale, and then Regina is shaking, nails sinking into her scalp as she arches and fills Emma’s mouth.

Prolonging her release as long as she can, Emma extracts her tongue and laps at Regina’s slit until her new favourite taste is nothing more than a memory in her mouth. She immediately wants more and raises her head, one hand caressing Regina’s ass while the other continues to hold her up.

She waits until Regina melts back against the wall, eyes closed, a blissful expression on her face as her chest heaves. She waits until those eyes flutter open and Regina looks down at her before Emma quirks her mouth and dips back down, wrapping her lips around Regina’s clit as she enters her, two fingers deep.

She wants to laugh when Regina swears, but her mouth is busy with something far more important as she teases the throbbing, stiff little bundle with the tip of her tongue, swirling and flicking until the stream of breathy protestations dissolves  Regina no more capable of stringing words together than Emma herself.

* * *

 

Nothing was more difficult for Emma than leaving that morning. There hadn’t been time for Regina to return the favour, but Emma found throughout the day that she cared less and less. It would have been nice- more than, but the memory of Regina at her peak, head back, pleasure spilling from her lips and from between thighs; had done wonders for Emma’s mood, frustration notwithstanding.

The text she received at lunch reminding her to return to the mansion tonight was the icing on the cake. She wasn’t sure what they were doing- what was going to happen now that she was no longer sick and Regina had no reason, beyond their burgeoning relationship, to share her home with her.

She does know that it has been almost a week since she slept in her own house, and she hadn’t been sick the entire time; a fact her father was also apparently aware of if the questions he threw at her the moment she entered the station this morning were any indication.

She’d been glad to discover Killian had kept his word, her father’s pout etched into her mind as she saunters up the path to 108, a grin on her face. He’d wanted to know why she’d been at Regina’s over the weekend and when she’d simply smiled and refused to answer him, that had been his reaction.

Mounting the steps to the front door, Emma pauses. She doesn’t have a key. It doesn’t matter because she knows for a fact Regina doesn’t lock her damn doors- something about the town being too afraid of her to even dare  _ think _ about breaking in, although Emma has been locking them every night she’s been here. Her pause is more courtesy than anything. Much as she’d enjoyed her time staying with them, it  _ isn’t _ her house; should she knock?

Hand rising as the thought occurs to her, she pauses again, brow furrowing. Regina  _ is _ expecting her, and there is, of course, the little matter involving that lunch time text message, in which Regina had called it  _ home _ , only specifying minutes later that she meant the mansion, and likely only because Emma had been so caught up in staring at the word that Regina probably mistook her lack of response for something besides the surge of love and silent awe that it actually was..

Wrinkling her nose, Emma tries the handle, unsurprised when the door swings open. She enters the house before closing it behind her and toeing off her boots, head shaking. If she ever does move in, she can already imagine the arguments they’ll have about their safety.

Knowing Regina, she’ll probably distract her every time. Emma will mention the possibility of Henry being abducted from his bed while they’re sleeping, and Regina will just roll her eyes and kiss her.

Emma grins at the thought, chuckling to herself as she wanders through the house in search of the damn woman. Checking the den, study and kitchen, she frowns. Regina’s car  _ is _ in the driveway.

Deciding to check upstairs, she calls out just in case. “Honey, I’m home.”

“Oh good,” comes the instant, somewhat muffled reply, “be a dear and bring your handcuffs.”

Hand already moving to her hip where her cuffs hang from her belt, she smirks and heads for the master bedroom. She pushes open the door, almost swallowing her tongue when she sees Regina sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, glasses perched on the tip of her nose as she scowls down at the folder in her hand.

It is both fucking adorable and supremely hot.

“Ah, I see.”

Regina glances up with a frown. “What?”

“Oh nothing.” Emma shrugs, feigning nonchalance as she removes her jacket. “Just realizing that you must be saving the boring, slow sex for the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” Regina raises a brow, her gaze warm and her tone light. “Someone is jumping ahead of herself.”

Emma snorts. “Lady, you had a kid with me before we even met.”

Head tilted to the side, a smile spreads slowly across her face. “That is true,” she concedes, plucking the glasses from her nose and setting them, along with the folder, on her bedside table. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll skip straight to the thirty year anniversary and celebrate by murdering you in your sleep.”

“It’s hilarious you think you’re going to last that long,” Emma counters as she unbuttons her shirt.

Regina watches her closely, nostrils flaring when Emma climbs onto the bed and crawls over to her, shirt hanging from either side and revealing the dark red lace of her bra. Regina reaches for her, fingers brushing her collarbone before stroking up and around, curling around the back of her neck. “Twenty?”

Emma hums. “I’m thinking more along the lines of five,” she murmurs, their noses rubbing. She presses a kiss to still smiling lips and adds, “Ten at a stretch.”

“Maybe you’ll grow on me.” Regina nips at her lower lip, drawing a soft moan. 

“I think I’m done growing-” Emma breathes, surging up and forward, reclaiming her mouth as she settles in her lap and runs hands through her hair. Once Regina is the one to moan, she breaks the kiss, grin sly as she says, “-but if you wanted me all over you, all you had to do was ask.”


	7. Chapter 7

Another week passes before Emma broaches the subject of leaving. Regina had wondered, and dreaded, when it would come up. It’s as they’re laying in bed on Saturday morning, both of them exhausted because neither had slept more than a few minutes at a time, and even those few minutes were only due to the fact they’d passed out.

She’s recovering from her latest orgasm when Emma murmurs in her ear, “Do you want me to go home today?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She knows what she wants to say- what she hopes Emma wants her to say, but Emma was thoughtful enough to ask that she decides to at least consider it before she responds. 

She tries to think of a reason she’d say yes. Emma can, on occasion, be annoying but not enough that she would willingly give up the company or the comfort, and she definitely wouldn’t give up the sex. There were a few times this week when Emma returned from work in a bad mood, which hadn’t been fun but in comparison to her own moods, they also weren’t a reason, especially not when Emma would later make it up to her for putting up with it.

The one and only reason, really, that she would find acceptable relies entirely on Emma. She raises her head from Emma’s chest and asks, “Do you want to go home today?”

“No.”

Her expression in combination with the lack of hesitation brings a smile to Regina’s lips. “Good.” Setting her head back down, she nuzzles the side of a breast, then says, “Personally, I don’t see the point. You would only have to return throughout the day- I did promise to cook your meals for the rest of your life.”

Emma chuckles before kissing the top of her head. She wraps her arms around Regina as she confesses, “I keep forgetting about that.”

“You... forgetting something that involves food.” Grinning, Regina questions, “Are we sure you’re not still sick?”

As she speaks, hands begin to roam her back and Regina knows, long before Emma opens her mouth, what she’s going to, if not say, then at the very least imply. “I am feeling a bit feverish,” she husks. “Why don’t you check my temperature?”

“I’m sure I have a rectal thermometer around here somewhere.” Emma smacks her ass and she bites the inside of her cheek. Lifting her head again, she tries not to laugh when Emma glares at her, and questions wryly, “I take it that’s not what you had in mind?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You know exactly what I had in mind, smartass.”

Smirking, she pushes up on her hands and knees, and shifts until her thighs are on either side of Emma’s hips and their mouths are aligned. She straddles Emma’s stomach as she bows her head and brushes their lips together. “I do, I confess,” she murmurs. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you forget about food given horny seems to be your natural state of mind.”

Emma grins against her mouth before taking her lower lip between teeth and nibbling. Regina hums, waiting for the swipe of a tongue before she draws it into her mouth and sucks, causing a moan that vibrates through her, the sound warming her belly and wetting her thighs.

She thinks the ease with which Emma turns her on should be embarrassing. It isn’t, but it should be; three- two-  a year ago and the mere suggestion that this bumbling idiot could make her wet with a sound would have sent her laughing maniacally into the night.

A week ago, the bumbling idiot transformed into a hot, blonde distraction that made her scream every night. Often more than once, and even more often; with a cocky expression she’d more than earned.

Groaning, Regina tears herself away from Emma’s talented mouth and demands, “Shower.”

“No.” She squints, disbelieving and confused. Emma chuckles, cupping her cheek. She lifts her head briefly, kissing Regina softly before dropping back onto the pillow with that stupid grin of hers as she informs, “We’re going to need to get a lot dirtier before I concede to leaving this bed for a shower.”

“Oh.” Well. “You best get on with it then.”

* * *

 

“Is it safe?”

Rolling her eyes, Regina looks up from her work to their son stood in the doorway and levels him with her most deadpan expression. He grins, the cheeky little beast. “And where did you run off to this morning?”

They’d come down after their shower, expecting him to be waiting for them and for him to demand to be fed. The fact he’s old enough and is more capable than Emma of feeding himself rarely ever gets in his way of complaining when he isn’t receiving what he considers adequate attention from the two women in his life who are supposed to love him the most.

She’d known humouring him last week would come back to bite her on the ass.

Neither her nor Emma mind.

“Interference.” He saunters into the room and throws himself down on the sofa. “Grandma was here, looking for Ma.”

Blinking, surprised, Regina sets her pen down. “Really?”

“Really,” he repeats with a grimace. “She had questions… and I want a raise on my allowance.”

Regina smirks as she reminds him, “You don’t receive an allowance.” 

Emma would say it’s because their son is a spoiled little shit and doesn’t need money when he has a mother who will happily buy him whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. Truthfully, it’s not a lie, but the actual reason is that their teenage son is a lazy little leech who doesn’t do chores and if she’s going to hand out money to people, then she damn well better benefit from the fact- a fact Regina has no intention of sharing with either of them because she does love her son and she can admit, at least to herself, that many of his shortcomings are a direct result of the aforementioned spoiling.

Also, telling Emma Swan she is, mostly, right is something Regina has promised herself she will never, ever do.

Regardless of how often it happens.

It happens a lot more than she expected it to.

“That’s because I don’t do anything,” Henry admits, saving her from that particular line of thought while blindsiding her at the same time. Again. She stares at him, watching as his grin grows. “What? I know who I am.”

She shakes her head, her own grin forming. Sometimes- not often, but sometimes- he is so much like Emma that she forgets he’s her son too.

“Well,” she drawls, unsure what to say.

He saves her yet again. “Where is Ma?”

Sort of.

Sighing, her shoulders slump and her eyes drift to the forms in front of her waiting to be read and signed, or shredded. David had called not long after they finished eating and asked Emma for help at the station. She’s been trying not to think about how it ruined what she thought would be their weekend together.

“Work,” she answers, not quite able to hide the pout from her voice.

“Ah.” Glancing back up when Henry stands, she notes his expression and tilts her head. His smile this time is forced and he raises a shoulder in a poor attempt at indifference. “Violet cancelled on me too.”

“Oh.” Right. Well; perhaps her plans for Emma this weekend would have been ruined regardless. It shouldn’t, but it makes her feel a little better. “Seems we’ll be stuck with each other today then.”

His mouth twitches with something more genuine. “Could be worse,” he offers. She raises a brow, daring him to continue. He cracks a grin and adds, “I could be grandma.”

Regina groans.

“You’re right,” she admits after she’s shuddered and forced the thought from her mind. She stands and rounds her desk. “Want to have lunch together at the diner and complain about girls?”

He sighs, loud and exaggerated before nodding. “Okay.” Expression serious, he continues, “But you have to promise you’re not going to spend the whole time talking about how you’re going to murder Ma for her world not revolving around you.”

She snorts. “Keep it up-” she warns, tapping him on the nose. “-and I’ll spend the next hour embarrassing you in front of the town by showering you with love; forehead kisses, affectionate looks- I have all of this pride stored up from your last exam.”

“Ew.” Wrinkling said nose, he turns and walks from the room, Regina close behind him, laughing when he says, “You’re lucky I’m hungry.”

* * *

 

Passing by the diner windows, Emma chances a look inside to see who she might have to pretend to be in a better mood for while she eats lunch. She doesn’t get far. As soon as she spots who is in her usual booth, she stops walking. She considers turning around and quickly making her escape, but Regina catches her staring almost immediately and quirks a brow.

Probably wondering why she is here after she’d made her lunch, just like she does Henry every morning before school.

Emma whines softly in her throat. She really loves the fact Regina is so thoughtful, and she’d been really touched while it was happening, but that was before the little bastard came to visit her, the same little bastard who visits her each month and refuses to leave for three days, tempting her with thoughts of things she knows she should eat in moderation but for some reason can’t.

If Regina thought the way she eats was bad before, she’s going to be horrified by what she sees next.

Deflating, resigned, she continues on towards the door, pushing it open. She winces as the bell above announces her arrival, the sound roughly ten times louder than it usually is, and tries to smile when she meets those eyes again.

Regina frowns, head tipping to the side. Emma bites the inside of her cheek and turns away from the familiar gaze, almost stomping her way to the counter. Compared to this morning, she knows she looks like warmed over shit; she doesn’t need to wait for the face full of concern after Regina completes the usual once-over she tends to do whenever Emma enters the same room as her.

Brushing off the odd look Ruby gives her while taking her order, she turns back in time to watch Regina stroll over to her, hips swaying gently to and fro. Emma is mesmerized as per usual, a quiet sigh escaping her nose when the expected heat curls her stomach and temporarily banishes the cramps.

Little more than an inch or two between them, she tries desperately not to stare at her mouth. “Sheriff,” Regina greets, voice low. Something brushes by her arm and Emma glances down, near transfixed by the empty cup Regina sets on the counter behind her but completely enthralled with the hand that settles firmly on her hip as Regina leans in even closer and murmurs in her ear, “Still hungry, dear?”

Squeezing her eyes shut with the vain hope it will help to silence the sudden desire she has to bend Regina over the counter, she croaks, “Cravings.” Regina jerks back with the softest of gasps and, just then realizing what she could but definitely doesn’t mean, Emma quickly opens her eyes and blurts, “Monthly. I… I have-” 

She gestures below her waist and Regina’s gaze snaps down, staring like she expects Emma’s vagina to suddenly jump out of her pants. Emma clears her throat, stifling a laugh when Regina looks up and there’s the slightest of pink warming her cheeks.

“You’re cute.”

Dark eyes narrow. “It wasn’t bad enough you ruined one day of our weekend?”

Her smile drops and she pouts. “It’s not like I got it on purpose.”

And she didn’t ruin anything. She didn’t know Regina had plans before she’d said yes to her father. Had she known, she’d have told him to get bent. After last week, she is a very big fan of Regina’s plans, especially if they involve the rest of those toys they hadn’t gotten around to playing with yet.

“Besides, we can still…” Receiving another of those raised brows, she bites her tongue. “Never mind then.”

“The diner is hardly the best place to have this conversation,” Regina drawls before she raises her voice a little. “Miss Lucas, you are a waitress, not a gossip columnist.”

Eyes wide, Emma whips her head around at the sound of an undignified squeak, and swears softly. Swallowing, she returns her attention to Regina. “I’m s-”

Regina squeezes her hip. “It’s fine,” she murmurs before removing the hand and accepting the food Ruby sets down. “A refill, Miss Lucas, and another milkshake for Henry; banana this time.”

“Yes, Madam Mayor.”

“You-” Regina nudges her in the stomach with an elbow. “-come with me,” she says before she turns and saunters away. 

With Emma’s food.

“Sorry Em.”

She chuckles. Regina didn’t sound or look mad, and as someone who has zero problem with expressing her emotions, Emma knows it means she wasn’t. “It’s okay.” Pushing from the counter, she glances over a shoulder and spares a wink for her friend. “I know how hard she bites.”

* * *

 

There are benefits to having a period. Specifically, the sex. Not only is she more sensitive, but the rush of endorphins does wonders for counteracting the side-effects. Nausea, cramps, headaches; all gone. Really, the only downside Emma can see is that it has to be done in the shower, which means she can’t fall asleep immediately after.

The unforeseen upside to an already great thing is that when she steps out of the shower, Regina is there to dry her off. The repetitive motion of Regina’s hands combined with the warm, fluffy towel stroking her body does absolutely nothing to help Emma with her problem of wanting to pass out then and there, but she definitely appreciates it all the same.

After the day she’s had, she couldn’t have asked for an end to it more perfect than this.

Letting the towel drop to the floor, Regina wraps around her from behind when she’s done and kisses her jaw. “Just a few more minutes,” she says, caressing her stomach. “Do what you need to do, then come to bed?”

Sighing, content, Emma nods and with another kiss, this time to the side of her neck, Regina releases her and leaves to give her some privacy.

No more than five minutes later, Emma emerges from the bathroom, wearing nothing but the black lace panties Regina had left for her. Regina glances up from her book and gazes at her hungrily, wonderfully attentive eyes doing their usual sweep before Emma crawls into bed beside her, hiding it all beneath the blankets she tugs up to her chin as she rolls to her side.

Placing a bookmark between the pages, Regina closes the book and removes her glasses. She sets them aside and flicks of the light off, then shimmies beneath the covers, scooting close before she, too, rolls onto her side and throws an arm over Emma’s waist.

“How do you feel?”

Emma smiles, lids fluttering in pleasure at the breath on her lips and the heat of the body pressed against her. She tangles their legs together, feeling warm, cared for and a lot more than a little; loved. “Better,” she murmurs. “Looking forward to the day we sync and can be miserable together.”

Regina sucks in a breath. “About that…”

“What?”

“It’s… not going to happen.”

Tipping her head back, Emma can just make out Regina’s face in the dark. She stares at her in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

Regina sighs. “I mean I drank a potion when I was younger that made me infertile,” she explains. “My mother...” She pauses, thinking. Seeming to change her mind, she says, “No longer having to suffer through those was an unintended, though pleasant, side-effect.”

“Oh.” Even without the full explanation, having met Cora and now knowing a little more about Regina than she used to, Emma can guess the rest. Returning her head to its original position, their noses bump as she leans in and kisses Regina softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Mmm.”

Caressing her hip, Emma wraps an arm around her, hand burrowing beneath her other hip as she slides impossibly close. “Is it okay that I now hate you a little bit?”

Regina chuckles. “Having had the pleasure for over a decade, I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

“You gonna share this potion with me?”

She hesitates and a few, quiet moments pass before she speaks. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Ask me again in a few years.”

“Why?”

Taking a breath, she says, “Because you might one day wake up and want more children. It’s not a curse, it can’t be undone by True Love’s kiss.”

Emma nods. It makes sense, but if she ever does have more children, she doubts she’d carry them herself; Henry and his big head was enough of an experience for her. It does give her a thought though, and she grins. “We could always adopt another one.”

With a strangled sort of squeak stuck somewhere in her throat, Regina repeats, “We?”

Her grin widening, Emma replies, “If you think you’re getting out of raising any of my other potential children after how well you raised our son, you’re delusional.”


	8. Chapter 8

In general, Regina has found that waking up beside Emma is an experience that not even someone with her grasp of multiple languages can adequately describe. The sheer range of emotions her body goes through would be enough to drive the sanest person imaginable insane, which is why, ever since their first shower together, she hasn’t, not once, resisted the impulse to happily, and thoroughly, ravish Emma the moment her eyes open.

This morning is not only an exercise in restraint, but extremely frustrating. In nothing but her panties, Emma is practically begging for it, and yet there isn’t a damn thing Regina can do about the fact she’d woken to the sight of those perfect breasts made even more perfect by the warm shaft of sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window to highlight them like some torturous, demonic beacon of bastardry.

Her mind, despite her attempts to direct it elsewhere, refuses to let her think about anything beyond how that warmth might taste on Emma’s skin, or how it might feel against her lips- her tongue- her _face_. She has a strange, but certainly understandable, desire to bury her face between Emma’s breasts and stay there.

Forever.

She’d always thought periods were nothing more than an inconvenience, and now nothing would ever convince her otherwise; the ability to conceive can go and fuck itself, as far she is concerned.

Sighing, resigned to suffering through her torment for another few minutes, she brushes a hand over Emma’s stomach, nuzzling the side of a breast with her mouth as she closes her eyes.

Determined to go back to sleep in the hope of recovering the dream she half-remembers of writhing bodies and voices crying out in the kind of pleasure her reality, sadly, lacks, she startles, gasping when a warm hand glides over her inner thigh.

“It’s sweet you thought I’d mind,” Emma murmurs, sliding the hand beneath her negligee. She doesn’t ask or even hesitate before she’s twisting her wrist and cupping Regina’s sex, making her moan. “Especially when you didn’t let me return the favour last night.”

Closing her legs, Regina begins to rock against long, slender fingers. “You were tired,” she croaks. She was too embarrassed to admit it last night but when Emma responds by curling her fingers and slipping inside of her, she confesses, “Touching you was all it took…”

“You came?” She nods and Emma chuckles. “I had no idea you’d be turned on by that.”

Neither did she, if she’s being honest. At first, she’d done it in the hope it would help Emma feel better but as she’d watched herself fuck her, fingers thrusting in and out, she’d started to feel hot- fuzzy. She’d come before Emma, and then again with her.

There was just _something_ about Emma allowing her to do it despite the state she was in, that aroused her beyond reason.

“It surprised me as well.”

“Well,” Emma drawls, the grin evident in her voice. “I’m glad you had fun too.”

When she starts to pull out, Regina tries to protest. Her eyes snap open but the words on the tip of her tongue fall short as Emma rolls onto her side and scoots down, bringing them eye to eye. She can see the grin then but it’s little more than a flash before it’s gone, disappearing behind lids that flutter closed as Emma guides her leg over a hip and eases two fingers back inside of her.

“For future reference…” Emma cuts herself off, apparently too impatient to wait until she’s finished her sentence before she leans in and kisses her.

Regina sighs into it and brings a hand to her waist, caressing. She strokes up along her side as the kiss lengthens, and she forgets quickly. Her curiosity dissipates in favour of satisfying the familiar, all consuming heat that rises within as she presses forward, tilting her hips and impaling herself on fingers that will have her coming undone in no time at all.

They part a dozen different times for a multitude of reasons, but never for long and certainly not long enough for Emma to speak. Emma hums, groans and _fucks_ Regina in just the way she likes, and she teeters for long- too long minutes, on the edge but never quite _there_ , not until, finally, Emma does speak.

“For future reference,” she repeats, panting, “I cannot imagine waking up to anything more perfect than being inside of you...” Seizing with the words, Regina arches and cries out at the next, purred against her mouth, “Unless it’s with your slickness on my chin and the taste of you on my lips.”

* * *

 

Phone buzzing annoyingly against her thigh, Regina pauses her perusal of clothes to fetch it from her pocket. Seeing Emma’s name on screen, she grins. She has a fair idea of what she’ll find in the text when she opens it, having left without so much as a note explaining where she went as soon as Emma fell back to sleep.

Sure enough, opening the text, there are four simple words staring back at her; _where did you go?_

Grinning wider, she texts back _mind your business_ before returning the phone to her pocket and resuming her search. Emma has a lot more clothes than she’d imagined. There are the usual tank tops, jeans and jackets she was expecting but there’s more- a lot more; t-shirts, blouses, _dresses_.

Interestingly, there are a couple of suits Regina wouldn’t mind seeing Emma in. She makes a note to mention it when appropriate before she tugs open another drawer, and sighs. Nice as Emma’s lingerie is, not only does it do nothing for her without the body to go with it but neither is it what she’s looking for.

Still, selecting a few pieces that catch her eye, she closes the drawer and squats down, pulling open the last. There, at the very bottom, she finds exactly what she was hoping to; comfort clothes, and plenty of them.

Sighing again, this time in relief because it feels like _hours_ since she’d left the comfort of her bed, she pulls out a few sweatpants and a couple of ratty t-shirts to go with them. Closing the drawer, she ignores another buzz from her phone as she disappears from Emma’s bedroom and reappears in her own.

From her position sat against the headboard, Emma narrows her eyes. “I just texted you.”

“I know,” Regina replies, dumping the clothes on the bed. She smiles sweetly and with an innocent flutter of her lashes, says, “I was busy raiding your closet.”

Emma cocks her brow. “Why?”

Shrugging, Regina climbs onto the bed and crawls up to her. “I thought, given your condition, you might be more comfortable in clothes that don’t restrict the blood flow to your brain.” Reaching her, she kisses Emma lightly, then flops down beside her, adding, “It needs all the help it can get after all.”

Emma sighs a long suffering sigh. “And to think I was about to accuse you of being nice.”

Hiding her grin, Regina sniffs. “Perish the thought,” she drawls, head lolling to the side. She gives Emma a once-over, pleased to discover her looking a lot less sickly than she had yesterday. “How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.” Turning to face her, Emma smiles warmly and explains, “I’m usually fine after the first day.”

“Good.” Stifling a yawn, Regina lays her head on a shoulder. “Has Henry surfaced yet?”

“Yeah- Violet called.” The shoulder rises slightly. “He mentioned something about a date?”

“Mmm.” Humming, she closes her eyes. “She cancelled yesterday.”

“Right.”

Hearing the obvious disinterest in her tone, she smirks and changes the subject. “So… we have the house to ourselves?”

“Uh huh.”

Feigning thought, she lets the silence linger for a minute or two, then questions, “Do you want breakfast?”

“Not really.”

Pleased, she raises her head and opens her eyes. “In that case,” she says, meeting Emma’s stare. “What would you say to going back to sleep with me, Swan?”

Grinning, Emma leans in, voice low, breath warm against her lips. “I’d say you’re on, Mills.”

* * *

 

“Emma!” Wincing at the shriek in her ear, she resists throwing her phone across the room. Barely. “ _Finally_. Where are you?”

“Um.” Looking down at herself and the mop of hair pooled on her stomach, she hesitates. How to tell your mother that you’ve been ignoring your phone all day because you’ve spent the entirety of it in bed with her once upon a time arch nemesis? Shaking her head, she offers, “The moon.”

“Really? What’s it like up there?”

“Cold,” she replies instantly, smirking. “Kind of cheesy and, you know, I forgot my spacesuit, so it’s... a little... hard... to breathe.”

The cutest, most adorable sound emanates from somewhere down by her stomach. “Emma, is that… giggling?”

Yes, yes it is. Clearing her throat, she questions, “Giggling? I’m not giggling, you’re not giggling. Who’s giggling?

Snow doesn’t respond right away and Emma takes the opportunity to bite the inside of her cheek before she starts cooing. Regina’s entire body shakes as she tries not to laugh too loudly, and it is the greatest thing Emma has ever seen, or heard. “It sounds a lot like Regina.”

Inhaling quietly through her nose, she retorts, “Regina? Giggling?” Adopting a serious tone, she asks, “Mom, are you high?”

“I’m starting to wish I was,” Snow mutters.

“Mom, drugs are not the answer.”

Hearing her sigh, Emma almost feels bad. Almost. She’d already wasted one day of their weekend. She’s determined not to waste the last, upset mother or no. Whatever her mother wants, she doubts it’s anywhere near as important as this and so, rather than apologize, she waits.

It seems like an age before Snow calls her name. “Yes Mom?”

“Should I call back tomorrow?”

“That would probably be for the best,” she murmurs, fingers playing through Regina’s hair. “Yeah.”

“Okay sweetie.” Relieved she doesn’t sound too upset, Emma relaxes, smiling when she feels warm lips against her stomach. “Tell Regina I said hi.”

“Sure, as soon as she’s done giggling.”

“I knew-”

Hanging up before she can finish gloating, Emma tosses the phone off the side of the bed. “Mom says hi.”

“Mhmm.”

Smiling wider, she moves the hand from Regina’s hair and presses a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head back. “Hi.”

Regina grins. “Hi.”

“What are you doing down there?”

Gaze flicking down, and then back up, the grin grows as Regina purrs, “Admiring the art.”

Emma snorts. “With your mouth?”

“There are many ways to admire art,” she counters, “and I am an excellent multi-tasker.” She raises a brow. “Are you complaining?”

“I wouldn’t ordinarily, but...”

“You’re hungry.”

Her stomach grumbles a split-second later and she laughs, confirming, “I’m hungry.”

With a shake of the head and a smile, Regina concedes, “We have spent most of the day in bed.”

Nodding along, Emma says, “That would explain why I’m hungry.”

“And I did promise to feed you.”

“You did,” she agrees.

Sitting her chin on her stomach, Regina gazes up at her thoughtfully. “Pre-dinner in bed?”

Emma frowns. She’s not going to say _no_ , but; “Is that a thing?”

“I’m making it a thing.”

In that case…

“I think I might love you.”

A brow rises, much more slowly this time. “Shall I feign shock?”

She shrugs. “If you like.”

“Gasp,” Regina says, rising on hands an knees. “Awe.” She inches forward and bows her head, their mouths a breadth apart. “Happy tears.”

“You’d make a terrible actress,” Emma murmurs as she clasps the back of her neck and draws her into a kiss.

Regina moans, then slips her the tongue as if in retaliation, making her moan. She breaks the kiss with her chuckle and says, “But a great pornstar.”

Emma wrinkles her nose. “Nah.”

“No?”

“All your co-stars would be murdered by your psycho, but extremely attractive girlfriend,” she reasons. “They’d have to fire you.”

“Good point.” With another quick peck, Regina rolls off to the side and stretches. “I feel like pizza.”

Emma follows, rolling onto her side and sliding a hand over her stomach, delighting in the feel of it flexing beneath her palm. “You do not feel like pizza,” she replies playfully. “Like, at all.”

“Oh?”

“I mean,” she amends, “you’re hot and really tasty-”

Eyes rolling, Regina slaps her hand away and sits up. “Mind out of the gutter.”

“Why?” Whining, Emma pouts.

“Because now I’m hungry.” Regina says as she stands. Summoning Emma’s phone from the floor, she drops it beside her. “Now, order us pizza while I visit the bathroom.”

“Bossy.”

* * *

 

Emma has a sneaking suspicion Regina _wants_ her to be sick. It’s the only possible reason she can conceive for why anyone would ever put pineapple on a pizza. Under any other circumstance, the look of pure pleasure on Regina’s face while she eats would turn her on, but all it’s doing at the moment is nauseating her.

“You’re disgusting.”

Flashing her a grin, Regina takes another bite and actually moans this time. Emma has to close her eyes because that sound along with the expression? That definitely has the potential to turn her on, and she refuses. Pineapple on pizza is a game changer; she cannot possibly be in love with someone who would ruin one of her favourite foods in such a way.

“We have to get married,” she says, peeking one eye open.

The blissful expression remains, only worse as Regina gazes at her from beneath hooded lids. “And why is that?”

Emma forces her other eye open. “Because-” Her voice is rough- _affected_. She clears her throat and takes a savage bite of her own pizza, deliberately speaking around the mouthful. “Because it’s the only way I can divorce you.”

With a knowing glint in her eyes, Regina smirks and says, “You are aware that if we _did_ get married and you _did_ divorce me, I would then have to murder you, yes?”

“If it means never witnessing this travesty of fruiticide again, it’ll be worth it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Also not a word.”

“I said it,” Emma counters, “so it’s a word.”

“Define it.”

“Abuse against fruit,” she answers smugly, “primarily carried out by weirdos with poor taste.”

Her mouth twitches and Emma pokes her tongue out at her. The smile blossoms as Regina shakes her head. She finishes off the last of her pizza, wiping her hands with a paper napkin she plucks from Emma’s lap before she uncrosses her legs and replaces said napkin with herself.

Emma eyes her warily, the suspicion clear in her tone. “What are you doing?”

“Reminding you-” Regina purrs, reaching for the buttons on her blouse and skillfully freeing them one by one. “-of why, were we to marry, divorcing me would never once cross your mind.”

Eyes glued to those hands as they work, Emma bites her lip. She’d been sad earlier when Regina emerged from the bathroom fully clothed. She had assumed it was because Regina hadn’t wanted to give the pizza delivery boy a show. Had she known she was going to be tortured for her complacency, she would have demanded Regina remove them immediately and gone to answer the door her damn self.

When the last button pops free and the blouse hangs invitingly from Regina’s shoulders, Emma murmurs, “This is just cruel.”

A deep, throated chuckle is her only answer as Regina reaches behind herself and unclasps her bra. Emma whimpers. “Admit you want me more than pineapple-less pizza, and they’re all yours.”

“You’re a monster.” Tossing the last of her slice in the direction of its box and not caring if it makes it there, Emma wraps an arm around her waist and flips her onto her back, incapable of not smiling when Regina merely laughs.

“Your parents have been telling you that for years.”

Emma grimaces. “Don’t mention my parents when I’m about to do what I’m about to do to you.”

“You haven’t admitted anything yet.”

Growling playfully, she ducks down and nips at a plump lower lip. “It was implied, you weirdo.”

“Maybe so, but I want to hear it.”

She exaggerates a sigh. “Fine,” she drawls, “I want you more than pineapple on pizza.”

Laughing, Regina winds a hand through her hair and tugs. “Try again.”

Charmed by the sound yet again, Emma smiles softly as she eases herself down on top of her. “I want you,” she admits, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “More than pineapple-less pizza.” She kisses her cheek. “More than bear claws.” And the corner of her mouth. “More than grilled cheese- more than any food that did, does or _will_ exist.”

Brushing their lips together, she kisses Regina long and deep, humming, breathless by the time they part. “I want you more,” she confesses, “than _anything_.”


	9. Chapter 9

Seeing Emma in a pair of sweatpants does something to Regina she isn’t expecting. Just, the way they hang on her hips, that little sliver of skin peeking out at her from between waistband and hem; it is simply delicious. She will never admit it for fear of Emma’s head becoming much larger than it already is, but when she steps out of the bathroom and finds Emma standing there, head covered as she vigorously dries her hair, she’s more than tempted to drag her back into the shower and have her way with her.

_ Again. _

She manages to compose herself as the motion of Emma’s hands slow and the towel begins to slide back. She’s moving before Emma has finished draping the towel across her shoulders and, yes okay, maybe she hasn’t quite composed herself entirely, as the next thing she does is walk straight into her and attack her mouth with her own.

Emma, of course, neither minds nor questions it. She does squeak a little in surprise, which Regina finds delightful- cute, even.

Humming, pulling away, she sighs. “How do you still taste like coffee? I watched you brush your teeth.”

Emma grins impishly. “No one told you?” Regina raises a brow, expectant. “I was tailored specifically for you.”

If she weren’t clearly joking, Regina wouldn’t have rolled her eyes quite so drastically. Considering these past few weeks, Emma being tailored for her isn’t anywhere near as laughable as the claim might have been in the past.

They are very well-suited for one another.

Sniffing, she waves dismissively and wanders over to her closet, commenting as she goes, “If that were true, you would quit your job, remain in my bed, and never wear clothes again.”

The silence as she searches for something to wear is a little disconcerting, but it doesn’t last. Emma is behind her after only a few minutes, not so sneakily wrapping around her from behind as a face burrows into the crook of her neck. Emma breathes in deeply, a soft little moan vibrating in the back of her throat.

It’s then Regina realizes her words had apparently turned Emma on, and Emma only confirms the realization mere seconds later.

“I would,” she husks before lips caress the length of her neck. “ _If_ you were serious.”

Regina shudders and closes her eyes as the mouth finds its way behind her ear, caressing the one sensitive spot on her whole body that only Emma has ever found. She leans back, barely stifling her whimper when she feels Emma press forward, hips a perfect fit for her ass.

“I might have been,” she lies and Emma knows, if her answering chuckle is any indication.

“Maybe,” she concedes, humouring her. “I have a feeling you’d miss the control; no more strutting into my office and demanding I hand over the paperwork I received five minutes earlier that should have been completed yesterday.” She nuzzles the lobe of her ear as she continues, “No more boring meetings you can scold me for almost falling asleep in, despite the fact you find them just as tedious. No more _fuck me, Sheriff_ …”

That does it.

Teasing her about her demanding ways as a boss, and teasing her for the things that come out of her mouth when she’s turned on beyond belief are two entirely different things.

Knowing Emma will second guess herself and relax in preparation for letting her go when it happens, Regina stiffens. Emma does exactly that but before a single syllable can leave her mouth, Regina turns and shoves her up against the closet wall.

“You shouldn’t tease me, _Sheriff_ ,” she purrs, thrusting a hand beneath the waistband of her sweats. She immediately zeroes in on her clit, trapping it between the tips of two fingers and giving it a squeeze. Emma gasps. “Especially when you’re already so sensitive.”

“That’s no-” Another squeeze and she groans, “Regina, I still have my-”

“Really,” she interrupts, smirking. “You honestly still believe I give a _fuck_ about your period?”

She doesn’t miss the small shudder Emma gives before hesitantly offering, “Uh, yeah?”

She chuckles, thoroughly amused, and confesses, “I don’t care, Emma.”

“Y- you don’t?”

She shakes her head. The only reason they showered during was because Emma had suggested it. She was hardly going to protest having Emma naked and wet while hoping to get her even wetter. “Not in the slightest.”

“Oh.”

It’s a breath of realization, but there’s also a hint of confusion. Regina grins. “Did you think that would save you?”

Emma flashes an adorable smile, dimples and all. “Kind of, yeah.”

“How sad for you,” Regina teases as she begins to circle her clit.

“You really don-”

“No,” she answers preemptively.

“Oh… okay.”

Emma reaches for her and Regina goes willingly, leaning into her. “It’s perfectly natural,” she murmurs, rubbing gently. She kisses her throat before tracing her jaw with the tip of her nose, all the way to her ear. She whispers, “And, as you know, I’ve never been one to shy away from a little blood.”

“Oh.” Emma jerks, then breathes a laugh. “You know, then.”

“That you have a thing for the Queen in me?” She blushes and Regina smirks, trailing her lips to a cheek, flush and warm. She kisses the corner of her mouth and teases, “Yes, dearest; your complete and utter lack of subtlety has betrayed you once more.”

Head falling back with another laugh, Emma breathes, mock disappointed, “Oh darn.”

* * *

 

Walking into work this morning, Regina didn’t think much of it. She had assumed that today would be no different from any other. She would attend some meetings and cancel others, sign whatever needed to be signed and shred whatever needed to be shredded. Storybrooke had been quiet lately, so there wasn’t a lot for her to do outside of the usual.

The very first time since strutting into her office that she has a moment to think is just before lunch, and her first thought is that it is different. There are a lot of mixed feelings, mostly involving her last appointment because Rumplestiltskin continues to be the biggest pain whoever lived, but there’s more. She feels content but also anxious- eager. It doesn’t take a genius (although she isn’t anywhere near humble enough to consider herself anything less) to figure out why, as her second thought is of Emma who had decided, despite claiming she was perfectly okay, that she wouldn’t be going into work today.

As is the case with her break, it is the first time Regina has thought of Emma since arriving, and the first time in her life that she feels as if she is wasting what remains of it.

She realizes, quite suddenly, that she wants to quit, and the feeling is surprising enough that she picks up her phone and calls Emma as soon as she sits down.

“Miss me already?”

“Yes,” she confesses because why else would she be feeling this way if not for that. She hears what sounds like a car and frowns. “Where are you?”

“Standing outside my house.” Her heart clenches tightly but before she can jump to conclusions, Emma says, “As much as I’m sure I’ll enjoy your reaction to me in that lingerie you picked out, I prefer more comfortable underwear for day to day.”

Breathing a quiet sigh in relief, Regina replies, “After today, and until your friend next visits, you could always go without.”

Emma chuckles, the sound both dirty and amused. “I’ll keep that in mind, but when I’m wearing my jeans, I prefer a barrier between the zip and... certain sensitive areas.”

Tempted to point out the fact she wouldn’t mind it if Emma decided to wear sweats from now on, Regina bites her tongue. There is no logical reason she can think of to give Emma more ammunition to tease her with. Instead, she concedes, “I suppose that makes sense.”

“I do that sometimes,” comes the wry drawl. “So… you missed me, huh?”

Her eyes roll. She should have known better than to admit to that. “The frequency for which I fear for the size of your head is rather alarming.”

“My head is perfectly normal-sized. My heart, however, can only take so much cute, so be adorable sparingly, please.”

Regina scoffs. “Thank you,” she says, “for reminding me why I shouldn’t miss you; you’re insufferable.”

Emma laughs and the sound makes her tingle pleasantly. Unfortunately, it also reminds her of her earlier desire to quit, as the feeling returns tenfold, and she sighs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I would like to say nothing,” she admits, “but I would be lying.”

“And I’d have to be even more insufferable… but if you don’t want to talk abou-”

“No,” she interjects. She wouldn’t have called otherwise. “I… regret coming into work today.”

“Oh.”

Save this single utterance, Emma is quiet long enough for Regina to assume the worst, lean forward in her chair, and contemplate the benefits of banging her head against her desk.

Emma, of course, ruins this plan, as is her tendency. “You could always cancel the rest of your day,” she says finally. “Unless there’s something import-”

“There isn’t,” Regina interrupts. Considering her next meeting is with  _King_ George to discuss his latest grievances about the way she runs _her_ town, the idea is even more appealing than it would have been otherwise. “Has your mother been by yet?”

“She arrived just after you left.”

Pleased, the only excuse she could think of to stay at work now gone, she starts to arrange her desk, ensuring everything is in order for when she returns tomorrow while she continues their conversation. “And,” she prompts. “What did she want?”

“The usual.”

She scoffs. “When it comes to Snow White, that could mean any number of things.”

“ _What are you doing, Emma?_ ” Emma questions in an uncanny impression of her mother. She even includes the mild whine Snow generally uses when she feels left out. “ _Why are you still here? Is there something going on between you two? Red said_ blahblahblah.”

“Ah. Well.” Regina coughs softly to stop herself from chuckling. Next time she needs a laugh, she knows exactly where to go for it. “We knew she was bound to stick her nose in sooner or later.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wish it didn’t feel like the damn inquisition with her, and why can’t she wait until I’m actually ready to tell her these things? She did the exact same thing wi-” Regina grimaces, knowing precisely what Emma would have said had she not cut herself off. “Uh...”

“With Hook,” she finishes in a bored drawl before reminding her,  “I _am_ aware; I was there for most of it, remember?”

“Yeah.” Emma sighs. “Sorry.”

Had she not already forgiven her, the sheer tiredness in her tone would have been reason enough to.

“It’s fine.” Glancing around and making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything, Regina then stands, snatching up her purse as she rounds her desk and makes her way out to her secretary. “I’m on my way home now. Would you like me to stop by and retrieve you?”

“Please.”

In that one word she hears relief and, if she’s not mistaken, joy. She smiles. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, my love.”

* * *

 

From her bedroom window, Emma hears the mercedes pull into her driveway. She knows she should go downstairs and invite Regina in, but she’d been feeling sick all morning. She’d lain down as soon as she’d packed a few things into her dufflebag, and now she’s too comfortable to move.

She doesn’t hear it when the front door opens or closes, but she does hear the rhythmic tap of heels against the stairs. She waits for the tell-tale creak of the floorboard outside her bedroom door, then turns her head in its direction. She smiles at the vision that greets her.

“Hi.”

Regina raises a brow as she steps into the room. “I hope you don’t expect me to carry you down to the car.”

Taking a moment to picture it, Emma hides her grin by pouting. “Why not? I’d carry you.”

The brow rises even higher. “Because I am a Queen-”

Emma interrupts to tease, “And a bit more refined?”

Regina smirks. “And you are a _lowly Princess_ ,” she corrects with a haughty tilt of her chin. She sniffs before continuing, “Meaning; you are beneath me and should therefore be honoured to carry me wherever I may please.”

“Okay, your Majesty,” Emma laughs as she sits up slowly. She allows her grin this time and confides, “You know I kinda hate the fact I missed out on your reign. I mean, if what I saw while I was pretending to be Princess Leia was anything to go by, you seemed like you might’ve been fun.”

“Assuming your definition of fun is a lot of death and destruction, certainly.”

She winces. “I-”

“I know what you meant,” Regina interjects, voice low in the slightest of warning. “I imagine I had my moments, but those days are long in the past and I think it best for the both of us if we leave them there.”

Feeling the nausea return, Emma swallows thickly and lies back down. “Right,” she agrees, pressing a hand to her stomach. She pats the bed beside her with the other. “I need a minute, come sit.”

Any irritation she might have found in brown eyes is erased, replaced with concern as Regina gingerly sits and pushes aside the hand on her stomach with one of her own, slipping beneath her tank. She rubs gentle, soothing circles as she murmurs, “I thought you said you were usually fine after the first day.”

Emma sighs. She usually is. “I think it’s more to do with the fact I tried to drown my guilt with too much sugar,” she confesses sheepishly, elaborating when Regina frowns, “I snapped at mom- and before you ask, I have no idea why I felt guilty about it; she was being nosey and annoying, and totally deserved it, but my brain is stupid.”

Frown vanishing, Regina smiles softly and bends down to kiss away her pout. “Your brain is not stupid,” she chides. “Although your mother is, in fact, nosey and more annoying than I will ever be able to put into words, you’re allowed to feel bad for upsetting her- lord knows I understand the feeling, as much as I wish I didn’t.”

“Stupid consciences.”

Regina chuckles and agrees, “Indeed.”

As the sound washes over her and the gentle rubbing turns to even gentler caresses, Emma starts to feel better. “Lie with me,” she says.

Regina doesn’t hesitate. She lies down on her side, her head propped up by an elbow. There’s a playful glint in her eye when she purrs, “You seem to be making a habit out of needing me to take care of you.”

Emma closes her eyes as the hand strokes higher, fingers teasing the skin between and below her breasts. She can’t deny it and wouldn’t even if she could; it is becoming a habit, and one Regina didn’t sound as though she minds. “I’d offer an apology, but considering…”

There’s another chuckle, and then there are lips on her throat, a body warming her side and pinning her arm to the bed. “I do appear to enjoy it,” Regina mumbles against her skin. “More than I probably should.”

The confession causes warmth to spread through Emma. She tangles a hand in Regina’s hair as she tips her head back and bares her throat for more kisses. Regina obliges with lips ghosting across her skin and the occasional flicker of a hot, wet tongue.

Teeth she is, by now, more than familiar with come into play soon after. They graze her skin but between the warm breathes along the cool trails left by Regina’s tongue and those soft, skilled lips, Emma barely notices, and then the biting starts.

_That_ , she definitely notices, as sharp nips send shock-like jolts of pleasurable pain to her system, made all the more pleasurable when Regina sucks on the marks she happens to leave behind, tongue seemingly writhing against flesh as she draws it into her mouth.

Growing wetter by the second, it drives Emma crazy that the hand beneath her shirt hasn’t moved an inch in minutes. Impatient, she squirms away from the talented mouth intent on abusing her poor, sensitive throat and ignores the responding growl as she gives the hair in her hand a not-so-gentle tug.

“If your plan is to torment me and leave me hanging,” she warns, “I’m going to have reconsider this entire relationship.”

Regina pouts but her tone is teasing. “I’m sorry,” she says, not a hint of contrition in sight. “Does my Sheriff need my attention elsewhere?” She doesn’t wait for a response, nonsensical as it would have been, before sliding the hand out from under Emma’s tank and into her pants. “Mmm. So slick and hot- is this what you needed, hmm? Does your pussy need me to play with it?”

“Jesus christ,” Emma breathes. The words are goddamn ridiculous but she’s pretty sure if Regina read the dictionary to her in that voice, she’d come within seconds. “Regina, for the love of god, make me come already.”

Chucking, lips against her jaw, Regina squeezes her pussy. “I’ll make you come for a great number of reasons,” she purrs, “but the love of god isn’t one of them.”

Emma opens her mouth, ready to retort, only to cry out as her hips fly off the bed. She swears, not realizing how sensitive she is until Regina is there, fingering her clit with short, rapid strokes and forcing her to the edge of release with barely any effort at all.

“That-” Regina murmurs, biting her jaw as she drives her closer and closer. “-those sounds… that expression, and the way you try so desperately to fuck my hand when you have zero leverage; all far more valuable to me than the love of some fictitious entity.”

“Jesus,” Emma groans, arching her back. “It’s a saying, for christ sake.” Regina laughs, as if delighted by her exasperation, and she groans again. “I hate you.”

“That’s too bad-” Capturing her lips, Regina plunges a tongue into her mouth, silencing another cry as she presses down on her clit and sends Emma careening headlong into orgasm. 

As Emma gasps and shudders her way through it, Regina nips her lower lip and pulls back to add, “-because you’re stuck with me, Miss Swan.”

* * *

 

The front door opens and slams shut. “Mom? Ma?”

Emma rolls her eyes and slides her hand out from underneath Regina’s shirt as she says, “Your son is so lazy; can’t even walk five steps to see if we’re in here.”

From her lap, Regina smirks up at her. “Says the person who decided we’re staying here tonight because she couldn’t be bothered walking to the car.” Tipping her head back as Henry enters the room with a frown, Regina smiles. “Hello darling.”

Glancing between the two of them, he shakes his head. “You know if you guys are always going to be together, it’d be easier if you just moved into one house, right?”

Emma blinks. They’re not always together. Most of the time, sure, but it hasn’t even been a month yet and besides, Regina still might get tired of her. She’s already been homeless once, and there is no chance in hell she’s going to live with her parents again. “But then how will your mother kick me out when I’m being annoying?”

Henry ponders the question for all of a half a second before he grins. “I thought you were always annoying and she decided to keep you despite it?”

Emma purses her lips to stifle a laugh that almost comes anyway when Regina chooses not to bother, her body shaking hard enough to rock the couch. Ignoring her as best she can, Emma narrows her eyes. “You’re a little shit.”

Henry smiles sweetly at her but it’s Regina who responds. “A little shit who is smarter than you, apparently.”

“Hey!”

Like mother, like son, Regina smiles up at her. “What?”

Mock innocent and teasing as the expression is, Emma deflates, insides turning to mush because she’s fairly certain that Regina smiling has the power to make everything right in the world. Half-hearted, she replies, “Shut up?”

Regina chuckles, reaching for the hand that had been stroking her stomach before Henry arrived. She entwines their fingers before bringing the hand to her mouth and kissing Emma’s knuckles. “Make me,” she counters playfully as Emma gazes, near breathless.

How she can go from mildly annoyed to wanting to furiously makeout with Regina so quickly, she’ll never know.

“Uh-” Henry clears his throat. “-child still present.”

“So close your eyes,” Emma murmurs, already bending down for a kiss.

“Mom.”

At his whine, she hesitates but she only has a second to reconsider before Regina releases her hand and grabs the back of her neck. “Henry,” she croaks, pausing, throat bobbing with her swallow. “Listen to your mother.”

“Ugh.”

The sound of his footsteps retreating follows the groan and Emma grins. “I know I should feel bad-”

“No.” Regina tugs as she interrupts and Emma goes willingly, lips parting with a moan for the tongue that slips smoothly between them. Sliding the hand from her neck into her hair, Regina fists it tight and tugs again, breaking the kiss with twin gasps. “He’s only a child when it suits him,” she mutters, nipping her lips. “He deserves no sympathy.”

Emma bites the inside of her cheek. They’re probably terrible parents, but this _take no shit from their son_ attitude Regina has suddenly developed is weirdly turning her on, and if the way Regina is looking at her is anything to go on, she’s not alone in the feeling, regardless of the reason.

Head shaking, shifting, she scoots out from underneath her and climbs on top of her instead. “I can’t believe I find this attractive.” She leans forward and brushes their lips together, mumbling against her mouth, “Poof us back to the bedroom, your Majesty.”

“As you wish,” Regina purrs, “my Princess.”


	10. Chapter 10

Cool darkness greets Regina when she wakes and for a moment, just a moment, she forgets where she is, wondering where the sunlight has gone before she remembers; they had stayed at Emma’s for once. Emma who detests waking up to light and, apparently, warmth, the thick blackout curtains warding her bedroom against either.

Regina reaches behind her, flailing for the duvet at her waist. She fists it in her hand and yanks it up over her head. As Emma’s body heat quickly envelops her from head to toe, exactly like she knew it would, she sighs, content.

She’s going to have to work on Emma’s aversions but, until then, she supposes this will do.

 

What feels like minutes but is most likely hours later considering the weight now pressing her into the mattress, she wakes a second, and final, time. She hardly remembers the first, only recalling the cold when she registers the heat that simmers low in her stomach.

Curious, she forces an eye open to peer down, and opens the other as her lips curl into a small, aroused smile. “Someone is in a good mood.”

“I woke up on top of you,” Emma murmurs, mouthing her inner thigh, tongue rolling against skin before she sucks it into her mouth. She bites down lightly, then releases, sucking on her lower lip as she glances up. “I’m in a fantastic mood.”

“Oh.” Lips shiny from what must have been her earlier ministrations, Regina groans, throbbing at the sight. “You could have woken me first.”

Emma nips the skin just below her navel. “Ingrate,” she chides, teasing her with the flick of a tongue. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I haven’t made you come… yet.”

Stomach clenching, Regina places a hand on the back of her head. She raises her hips at the same time she pulls, burying Emma’s face between her legs and arching her back, moaning, as a chuckle vibrates through her.

Emma nuzzles her pussy, then sucks on her lips, tongue wiggling between them and laving her slit, causing more and more of her heat to spill into Emma’s mouth. Regina gasps, moans and groans, and tries to pull her even closer, rocking against her face as she selfishly demands more.

“Fingers.” Two find their way beneath Emma’s chin somehow, poised and ready at her entrance almost before the demand has left her mouth. Regina strangles a whimper when that is where they remain, patiently awaiting her surrender. She growls, “Emma…”

It doesn’t work.

It never does.

Emma ignores her, lips instead wrapping around her clit, tongue swirling, flicking, teasing the nub. Regina whines in the back of her throat, hand fisting in Emma’s hair as she squirms and the heat builds and builds, and builds, and she relents.

“Please!”

Oh, Emma is going to pay but as those long, slender fingers slide so effortlessly inside her and Regina breathes a satisfied groan as she thrusts herself onto them, thoughts of revenge are the furthest thing from her mind.

Emma knows too much. She knows exactly how fast she needs to go, exactly how deep- how hard. She knows where to push, to stroke, tongue and fingers working their perfect rhythm. Thought, revenge filled or otherwise, is near impossible as Regina writhes against hand and mouth, her skin slick with sweat as Emma takes her to the edge more than once.

Even words, at this point, are a fantasy. The desire to beg is there, maddening as it is, but without a voice, all Regina can do is hold on and hope for mercy before the overload of sensations cause her to pass out.

Whether seconds, minutes or hours, she near screams when her release hits. She wanted it- _needed_ it, but she doesn’t expect it, throat too dry for sounds of any kind to come from within as her back snaps taut and her thighs clamp shut.

Smug is always her first thought when coming down from the high. She doesn’t even need to look to know that it radiates from Emma’s idiotically, beautiful face, though it hardly ever _stops_ her from looking anyway.

She always has been a sucker for this cocky version of her swan.

“Water?”

Lids fluttering on that ridiculous grin, she shakes her head with an almost silent laugh. “Water,” she agrees, voice hoarse.

* * *

 

She’s daydreaming at work. It’s fine in the morning when it’s quiet and she has very little to do. She has a few reports to fill out but nothing that requires too much of her attention that she feels it necessary to _stop_. In the afternoon when most of her meetings are booked, it becomes more of a hassle, especially when she finds herself having to ask people to repeat themselves more than once.

Amanda, her secretary, had been kind enough to reschedule George’s appointment for today and when he sighs at her for the umpteenth time because she wasn’t listening, (which is, admittedly, only half due to the fact she’s daydreaming; she hardly ever listens to him and doesn’t know why he thought this time would be different) she makes a mental note to thank Amanda for being so thoughtful.

She then proceeds to think about strangling them both while George drones on about the necessity of a larger police presence in her town. He’s been trying to get her to expand the force for months now, ever since Hades had found his way into Storybrooke, as if throwing even more, more incompetent bodies at things is going to solve all of their problems.

Truthfully, she knows what he really wants her to do is replace the Sheriff department entirely. She won’t, and since the curse broke, she has had zero inclination to do so. Emma, as far as she and the rest of the this world is concerned, is an extraordinary Sheriff who goes above and beyond what her duties require of her. Her habit of selecting people she likes as Deputies might have been some cause for concern but each of them, even the pirate, have proven themselves relatively capable since.

George, from what she’s gathered in the rare moments she does listen to him, is simply upset because neither Emma nor her deputies are susceptible to his manipulations.

Why he thinks she would be sympathetic to that is quite beyond Regina’s grasp considering, unlike him, she is perfectly capable of manipulating the lot of them.

Allowing him to finish his weekly spiel, she waits until the silence between them has been at least a minute long before she speaks. “I will take what you’ve said into consideration,” she lies, deliberately exaggerating her boredom a little more than necessary so he _knows_. “If that is all…”

His nostrils flare and he opens his mouth. Amanda, bless her, chooses this precise moment to inform Regina that her next appointment is waiting. Gaze drifting from her intercom back to George, she raises a brow. He hesitates but after he stands and offers his usual bluster involving her _marking his words_ and other such nonsense, she watches him storm out of her office in a huff.

Reaching for her intercom as the door slams behind him, she drawls, “Thank you, Amanda. You may inform the nuisance that she is free to enter- at her own leisure, of course...”

When she removes her finger from the button and her door opens, she adds, “Lord knows I have nothing better to do with my time than wait for her Highness to grace me with her presence.”

Emma grins as the door closes gently behind her. “If my Majesty didn’t want to wait-” she counters in a teasing tone. “-perhaps she should have specified an earlier time for her Highness to _grace her with her presence.”_

Smile growing as she talks and inches closer to her desk, Regina scoffs. “Perhaps her Highness should show some initiative from time to time.”

Emma feigns offense, mouth agape. “Excuse _you_ , I showed plenty of initiative this morning, thank you.”

The offense not so feigned after all, Regina bites her lower lip and pretends to at least have the decency to be contrite. “My mistake,” she purrs, voice husked and low so that it distracts Emma, who pauses to eye her, one part suspicious but all parts interested. Regina coos, “I don’t believe I thanked you for that most… wonderful wake up call.”

Emma flushes a pretty pink. “Yes, well.” She coughs, then rustles the bag in her hand. “I brought lunch.”

Regina smirks. “I can see that.” She sort of assumed Emma would, although their agreement this morning was only that Emma would come and see her during her lunch break, to hopefully stave off this new desire she has to quit her job and spend every waking moment of the rest of their lives together.

Merely remembering what caused her to up and leave work in the middle of the day yesterday causes the feeling to return, and she sighs almost mournfully.

Tilting her head, Emma gazes at her in thought before appearing as though she’d come to a decision. She places their food down and rounds the desk, stopping next to her chair. Regina looks up just as she bends down and sighs, a far happier sound, against the lips that capture her own before she can ask Emma what it is she thinks she’s doing.

She concedes, silently, that it was a stupid question to begin with and runs a hand through Emma’s hair, clasping the back of her head and sweeping her tongue into Emma’s mouth, deepening the kiss.

It lasts for- it lasts. She doesn’t know how long, only that it will never be long enough. Sorely tempted to turn her chair and tug Emma down into her lap to ensure it lasts indefinitely, Regina eventually breaks the kiss to push her away and stand.

Emma pouts but she snatches up their food and leads her over to the sofa with a hand at her elbow. She drops down onto the sofa with all of her usual grace, which is to say there was none at all because Emma is a clumsy oaf. Regina adores her, smiling down at her as she shakes her head and takes the cushion beside her, sitting, perhaps, a little too close.

Not that Emma seems to mind.

“There’s a heart attack waiting to happen,” she murmurs as she watches Emma set out the food on the table.

“You’re just full on ungrateful today, aren’t you?” She feels a sliver of guilt but Emma smiles like it doesn’t bother her one bit, and kisses her on the cheek. “I bought plenty of non-inducing heart attack food for you, just eat what you want and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Another, softer sigh leaves her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Emma replies, dismissive as she flips open a container holding a sandwich and transfers some her fries into the lid before passing it to Regina. “I saw who your last appointment was,” she reasons, “you’re always a little grumpy after dealing with him; I’m used to it.”

It should be- not insulting, but something that doesn’t involve her chest and the warmth that settles there with Emma’s words. Annoying? Exasperating? At least a tiny bit offensive? She can’t pinpoint what exactly she should feel, but whatever it is, it’s no match for the affection drowning it out and filling her with the sudden urge to throw her food back on the table, and throw _Emma_ down on the sofa to kiss her senseless.

“Rude,” she mumbles around a mouthful of fries, resisting a grin as Emma flutters her lashes innocently.

* * *

 

Lunch a success, Emma takes her time getting back to the station. She’s been working with Killian today and while it’s not anywhere near as bad as one might expect, he tends to talk a lot. It’s a side of him she didn’t know about when they were dating. She assumes it’s because rather than trying to get into her pants, he’s trying to be friends, which is... not as unappealing as she thought it would be.

He wasn’t the worst partner she’d ever had, but he was definitely up there with the rest of them. She’s started to think that maybe it’s because they were never meant to be together in that way, like maybe he was a test of some kind that she’d somehow passed and now they were beginning the relationship they were supposed to have all along.

He definitely isn’t the worst friend she’s had, not by a long shot. At first she’d assumed he was being nice to her because he wanted to try again, but then he’d asked her for a job. She thought maybe that was it, but he continued to be nice- possibly a little more so now that she was considered his boss. She kept wondering and trying to figure out his angle up until the day in the alley where he’d caught her and Regina making out.

Now, not only is he nice, but he won’t shut the hell up and let her work in peace.

She keeps forgetting to ask Regina if pod people exist, and if so, how she might determine whether or not someone has been replaced by one.

_Speaking of…_

Fetching the ringing phone from her back pocket, she answers, not needing to look at the screen. “Really? It’s only-”

“You left your jacket here,” Regina interrupts, sniffing.

“Oh.”

“It’s distracting me,” she says. “At this rate, I’ll never get any work done ever again.”

Smiling softly, Emma rolls her eyes. “If you want me to come back, you could just say so.”

“Why on earth would I want that?” Regina scoffs, but any offense Emma feels at the annoyance in her tone fades when she adds, “I’m already distracted, you would only make it worse.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Emma stops walking. It takes her a minute to remember what colour jacket she’d been wearing this morning but when she does, she closes her eyes and holds out her hand, summoning her magic. The jacket feels warm as it settles across her arm- _too_ warm for it to still have been draped across the back of the sofa where she recalls leaving it.

Feeling a little warm herself at the thought that Regina might have been holding it when she called or, better yet, _wearing_ it, she decides to keep the thought to herself. There was no telling how Regina would react to the accusation, especially if she was wrong but, more especially, if she was _right_.

Opening her eyes, she quickly slips the jacket on and resumes walking. “Better?”

“How could that be better?” Regina near whines, her pout practically audible. “Now I have no excuse.”

Emma stifles a laugh. “Good lord, woman,” she mutters. “As much as I enjoy trying, there’s just no pleasing you.”

“Well... that’s hardly true, now is it?”

Her stomach flips at the implication and she has to stop again to save her legs from giving out at the tone. “No,” she admits, teeth dragging across her lower lip. Truly, pleasing Regina is the easiest thing in the world in _that_ context. She murmurs, “I still enjoy trying.”

A short, husked laugh caresses her ear. “I know you do,” Regina purrs, sending a shiver down her spine. “As do I.”

Heat infusing her body, Emma coughs lightly. “Anyway,” she says, glancing around. Glad that no one is around to witness the way she’s blushing like a virgin, and realizing she’s only a few feet from the station, she grins as she begins walking once more. “Was this enough of a distraction for you?”

“No.” Regina sighs after a moment. “But I suppose it will have to do.”

Mounting the steps to the station, Emma lowers her voice as she saunters down the hall. “You could always think about what I intend to do to you tonight- I’ve noticed we could both do with a few new bruises.”

Hanging up before Regina can reply, and as she rounds the corner into the main office, she inclines her head toward Killian when her phone buzzes. She smirks and looks down at the screen, laughing when she reads the text.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” she says, looking back up. Killian raises a brow and she shrugs, waving a hand dismissively as she crosses the room. “Just the Mayor threatening me, as per usual.”

“Sounds like a fun relationship,” he calls after her as she enters her office.

“You have no idea,” she murmurs, closing the door before she glances down at the text and grins to herself.

_You’re going to pay for that._

* * *

 

“I don’t believe gossiping with waitresses is a part of your job description, Mister Jones.”

Exiting her office just in time to overhear Regina chiding Hook, Emma smirks. “Nor is harassing my deputies a part of yours, Madam Mayor,” she counters, striding over to his desk and handing him the last of her reports for the day. “File those. Dad should be by soon to relieve you, I’m going home.”

“Sure,” Hook drawls, “ _home_.”

Emma glances at Ruby, who looks like she _knows_ , and rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t care,” she says, pointing a finger at Hook with a half-hearted glare before she turns from him. “Let’s go, your Majesty,” she adds because yes, despite what Hook thinks she meant, home hasn’t been home for a while and she’d been talking about the mansion all along.

Regina waits until they’re in the hall out of earshot before she speaks. “You don’t care?”

Pausing, Emma turns to face her. “You already knew that.” There is no way she imagined the day she’d told her. “You insisted we weren’t going to have sex and then forced me to makeout with you.”

Mouth quirked, Regina raises a brow. “I _forced_ you?”

“Uh huh.” Emma grins. “You were so demanding,” she says, stepping close. She places her hands on Regina’s hips and murmurs, “It was _hot_.”

Regina chuckles, low and warm, but the sound of a throat clearing startles them both and their heads jerk to the side. David smiles, a mix of curious confusion on his face and for a few, silent seconds, the three of them simply stare at one another.

Regina breaks the silence first, her gaze boring into the side of Emma’s head. “Still don’t care?”

Emma wrinkles her nose. The answer is yes, she still doesn’t care, but this isn’t exactly how she imagined telling her father. Truth be told, she’s been avoiding telling her parents anything at all. She didn’t know how they’d react and, good or bad, she doesn’t want to deal with it either way. She doesn’t want to share- can picture the hellish nightmare of family dinners her mother will invite them to if she approves, and the constant whining if she doesn’t.

She’d been less concerned about her father because- well. All one has to do is look at his face to see how he feels about things and if his current expression says anything, then it’s something along the lines of; I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m happy if you’re happy. Please tell me you’re happy.

She is and the longer she looks at him, the more she wants to laugh but she can feel Regina growing concerned, shifting beneath her hands as if wanting to step away- afraid, perhaps, that her answer has changed.

Emma firms her grip on hips and returns her attention to their owner. She smiles and leans in, kissing Regina softly before Regina can consider trying to put some space between them. Emma pulls back slowly and grins as Regina blinks back at her, the expression she wears surprised, but pleased.

“Dad,” Emma says, snaking an arm around Regina’s waist as she turns them toward him.

He raises his hands. “I know I can be slow sometimes, but not even I misunderstood that.”

“Sometimes?” Regina drawls, chuckling darkly when his face contorts in mock offense and Emma pinches her hip.

“Be nice.”

“There you go again-”

“Yeah yeah.” Emma gestures dismissively. “I don’t know you, blahblah.” Starting them forward, she pauses before David and kisses his cheek. “Feel free to tell mom,” she says, grinning. “I’m taking Regina home so she can cook me dinner.”

Regina sniffs. “This is the child you brought into the world, Charming; someone who uses people for their cooking skills”

He laughs before grinning slyly. “I’m sure that’s not all she uses you for.”

She gasps and places a hand over her heat in pure, drama queen fashion. “Shepherd, I didn’t know you had it in you; I approve.”

“Ah-” he sighs, equally dramatic. “-my life’s wish fulfilled.”

Looking between them, Emma rolls her eyes again, though she can’t help but keep grinning. “Alright, watching you two flirt is disturbing; time to go.”

Regina smirks and informs David, “She’s this bossy in the bedroom as well.”

“I did not need to know that.” When she opens her mouth to retort, David claps his hands over his ears and hurries passed them. “Not listening.”

Not letting that deter her, Regina shouts over her shoulder after him, “Best sex I’ve ever had!”

“Lalala!”


	11. Chapter 11

“Damn it, mom. She’s asleep, leave her alone.”

Careful not to give away the fact she’s actually not, Regina resists the urge to roll over and ask Snow what the hell it is she thinks she’s doing barging into her room like she has that right. She doesn’t need to, not when the next words out of Snow’s mouth are all the explanation she needs, squeaky and gibberish sounding as they are.

It’s something to the effect of; “I’m sorry, honey, I just got so excited,” except more idiotic sounding and in that whine Snow seems to have perfected ever since she got her memories back and remembered she’s a spoiled, moronic Princess who can, ordinarily, get away with whatever she wants.

Thankfully, despite Snow’s best efforts, Emma Swan is nothing like her.

“Mom, seriously, I don’t give a shit. Get out.”

“Bu-”

That’s as far as Snow gets before the door closes. Regina assumes Emma shoved her out and she grins when she hears Snow’s muffled protests from out in the hall. She rolls over and flicks her wrist at the wall, and her stomach flips when she sees Emma standing there, hands on her hips, glaring at her mother, who slowly starts to back away toward the stairs.

Emma waits until Snow is descending before she turns her head, and winks. Regina grins wider. She didn’t think it possible to love that woman any more than she already does, and yet she swears her heart grows ten times the size right there in her chest.

As Emma turns to follow Snow downstairs and the wall shimmers back to being solid, she sighs. As much as she appreciates Emma intervening, she would have much rather woken up the same way she had yesterday. Or, better yet, woken before Emma so that she could wake  _ her _ that way instead.

Grunting, she shifts onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. She has no idea how long she does it for but eventually she glances at the clock beside her bed, and stares at that for a few minutes instead. She’s late, for virtually everything she’s supposed to do today. Fridays are usually when she goes into work early, at least an hour before everyone else arrives- well before Henry wakes up and shuffles off to school.

Not today, though. Apparently.

Huffing, she throws her blanket back and sits up. On the bright side, Snow should be leaving soon. Assuming she hasn’t already.

Cheered by the thought, Regina rises and crosses to her closet, disappearing inside. She emerges with her clothes for the day, only to pause as the door opens again and Emma reappears.

“Hey.” Setting the tray in her hands down on the end of the bed, she saunters over and wraps her arms around Regina, kissing her firmly- hotly on the mouth. “I made breakfast,” she says, swaying back with a grin. “Was kinda hoping you’d still be in bed.”

Blinking, a little disoriented by that kiss, Regina swallows. “I should have been up at least two hours ago.” Emma frowns and Regina explains, “It’s Friday, dear.”

Mouth forming an O shape, her cheeks turn pink. “Uh, sorry. I guess I… I should have woken you when the alarm went off.”

“Hmm. No,” Regina disagrees before she leans in and captures her mouth, returning the kiss. She leaves Emma speechless and panting, disentangling from the embrace as she moves over to the bed and plucks a piece of bacon from the tray. “I likely would have murdered you if you’d dared.”

She tries to turn, to smile sweetly at her but Emma is right  _ there _ , arms sliding around her waist, body warm and solid against her back. “You were quite happy when I did it yesterday,” she murmurs, the smirk clear in her tone.

“True.” After her earlier thoughts, she has to concede that at least. She definitely enjoyed yesterday and she certainly hopes for a repeat in the near future. “But,” she adds upon finishing her bacon, “had you done so this morning, I would have known what day it was and would likely have disappointed us both... which is why I would then have had to kill you.”

Emma hums thoughtfully, burying her nose in the crook of her neck. “I guess that’s fair,” she mumbles and kisses her pulse.

“Mhmm.” 

Raising her head, Emma sighs. “So I guess you won’t be wanting that,” she says, gesturing to the tray.

Regina smirks. “I’m already late, I might as well take my time,” she drawls, waiting until Emma relaxes back into her before she questions, “Your mother isn’t still here, is she?”

“Nah, I kicked her out and made her take Henry with her.”

“Mmm.” The day just keeps on getting better. Throwing her clothes on the bed, Regina turns in the embrace, draping her arms across Emma’s shoulders. “So what was your plan after I was done eating?”

Teeth tugging at her lower lip, Emma shrugs and replies, “Convincing you to stay in bed with me until I have to go to work, basically.”

Regina grins. Better and better. “I think I can manage that.”

* * *

 

Emma laughs as Regina wraps around her, arms and legs clinging to her body in an attempt to keep her from getting up. There is no way it’s been three hours already, but Emma insists and Regina refuses to look at the alarm clock just in case she’s wrong. Whether she is or not is beside the point. What isn’t beside the point is that Emma is trying to be the responsible one, and that simply cannot stand.

“You said you hate it- being the adult,” she reminds her as she hooks her chin over Emma’s shoulder. “Stop resisting me, Emma.”

Emma laughs harder. She’s curled into a ball on the edge of the bed, almost on the floor. If she keeps it up, there’s going to be no almost about it. Regina grins at the thought, though she wraps herself more tightly around her to ensure it doesn’t happen.

“You made me late,” she murmurs, rubbing her nose along Emma’s jaw. “This is only fair.”

Emma strangles a sound in the back of her throat, outrage in her voice. “Not on  _ purpose _ .”

“So you say.”

She growls playfully. “You calling me a liar, Mills?”

“What if I am?” She retorts, grinning to herself. She nips at her jaw, teeth grazing skin, warming when she feels Emma shiver, and purrs, “What are you gonna do about it, Swan?”

“This.” She’s on her back in an instant, Emma on top of her. Surprised at the speed with which she does it, Regina releases her without meaning to and then Emma is turning, straddling her waist as she grabs her wrists and guides them up over her head. “I am not a liar.”

Mouth dry, Regina gazes up at her. “Uh huh.”

“Say it.”

She swallows, tongue darting across her lower lip, and breathes, “Make me.”

Visibly biting the inside of her cheek to stop the smile that emerges despite her effort, Emma shakes her head. “There isn’t time- capitulate and I’ll make it up to you.”

Stifling a laugh, Regina raises a brow. “So rather than force me, you’re bribing me?” She feigns disappointment, sighing. “I don’t think you get how this works.”

Emma ignores her. “I. Am not. A liar,” she growls, bowing her head until their noses touch. “Say it.”

“I am not a liar.”

“Close enough,” she says, letting go of her wrists and climbing off of her.

Regina pouts, the disappointment no longer feigned. “You give up too easily.”

Emma laughs as she rolls from the bed. “You say that, and yet you’re the one lying there looking like I kicked your puppy.”

“I don’t get that saying,” Regina admits as she pushes herself into a sitting position. “If you kicked my puppy, you’d be too busy screaming while I tortured you for being a terrible person, for you to notice how I look.”

Having searched for her clothes as she spoke, Emma straightens with her jeans half on and her shirt in hand. She turns slowly, amusement bleeding from her expression into something far more affectionate as she tugs her jeans the rest of the way up, drops her shirt back on the floor and climbs back onto the bed.

Regina tries to hide her grin. She only needs to pretend indifferent for a few seconds before Emma is on her and claiming her mouth for something far more important. She raises her hand as they kiss, fingers stroking Emma’s neck before she slides them along her jaw and into her hair, gripping it tight. She sits up straighter and wraps an arm around her, her other hand curling around a hip just as tight as she deepens the kiss, swiping Emma’s lower lip and humming the moment she’s granted entrance into a hot, wet mouth.

Emma groans, breaking the kiss after only a few short minutes. “God,” she laughs breathlessly, “I am so fucking easy.”

“I won’t complain.” Regina teases, “Besides, I find your love of animals to be adorable.”

Eyes rolling, Emma gives her another quick kiss. “Shut up,” she says before climbing off of her once more and snatching her shirt back from the floor.

Regina grins. “Keep doing that and I won’t have a choice.” At Emma’s playful glare, she tilts her head and, with a serious expression, questions, “Shouldn’t you be going to work?”

“I lo- ve you.”

Anyone with half a brain would know that isn’t what she was going to say, but Regina merely smiles at her and replies, “I love you too.”

* * *

 

“Dad. Stop.” He keeps staring at her. Grinning. Whenever Emma glances at him, he looks so proud and she’s pretty sure she knows why, but she’s not going to ask; it is the one and only time she might be right where she doesn’t want to know it. “It was borderline disturbing before, now it’s just outright creepy.”

He chuckles. “Blame Regina.”

Suspicions confirmed, she tries not to grimace, and succeeds somewhat. She may not have mentioned it, but she remembers just as well as he what Regina had said yesterday; best sex she’s ever had. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of herself for the fact, but her father sharing in the moment is a little too much.

“Speaking of,” she says, looking away from her computer. “Don’t you have a meeting with her in like… 5 minutes?”

He curses and scrambles out of his chair, muttering as he searches his desk for the files Regina will be expecting. “You could have reminded me.”

“I just did.”

He shoots her an unimpressed look before continuing to rifle through papers. She watches him with a grin, not even bothering to try and hold in her laughter when, moments later, he shouts a triumphant, “Aha!”

Folder in hand, he sends her a half-hearted glare before he raises his chin in as dramatic a fashion as possible and waltzes out the door. She shakes her head, smiling as she peers down at her phone, awaiting the inevitable call from Her Royal Majesty, demanding to know where David is once he’s at least half a minute late.

Surprisingly, he’s at least two minutes late by the time the call comes. Regina doesn’t even wait for her to say hello. “Where is he?”

“He forgot,” Emma admits, ignoring her sigh. “He left about five minutes ago, though, so he should be there soon.”

“Fine. I’ll see y-”

“Wait,” she interrupts. Not only was that way too easy, but her blank tone is more than a little disconcerting.

“What?”

She hesitates but any concern she has for the fact her asking might annoy the Mayor is outweighed by the concern she feels for her girlfriend. “Are you alright?”

“I- yes...” There’s a pause and a faint but audible thump, and then another sigh; this one heavier than the first. “No, I’m not,” Regina confesses with a small groan. “I’m behind schedule and it’s giving me a headache.”

Emma frowns. She knew Friday was her busiest day of the week but after this morning, she’d assumed Regina was okay with being late.“Is there anything I can do?”

“Short of murdering the people I have meetings with throughout the rest of the day... nothing I can think of.”

That makes two of them. At least, she can’t think of anything that wouldn’t cost Regina even more time out of her day. “Alright,” she says, “give me their names.”

The laugh it gets her is soft, breathy and a little bit pained but amused, and well-received if the sudden, teasing emotion in Regina’s tone is any indication. “You couldn’t.”

“How would you know?” Emma feigns outrage despite the fact Regina is probably right. “I haven’t tried yet,” she insists, smiling as Regina’s amusement continues to sound in her ears. “Come on, hand them over.”

“You’re sweet for offering, dear, but if there’s any murdering to be done...”

Emma sighs, making it sound as mournful as she can before she pouts and says, “You never let me have any fun.”

“Such lies you...” The smooth purr cuts off abruptly when there’s a knock at her door that even Emma can hear through the phone. “Your father is here.”

“Great,” she murmurs playfully, “Use that voice on me and now no follow through... typical.”

“Who said there won’t be follow through? You’ll simply have to wait.”

Grinning, she lies, “Worst day ever.”

“Don’t be a drama queen.” She has enough time to consider the sheer hilarity of Regina accusing her of such a thing before Regina adds, “there are enough of us in this family as is.” Her chest, stomach, cheeks- any part of her body that can, really, warms. “Anyway, thank you, Sheriff, but your services as a hit woman will not be required today.”

Emma huffs a breath through her nose. David must have entered the room, which means she’s going to have some explaining to do later. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Regina quips. “Have a nice day at work, my love.”

She hangs up before Emma can reply and, still grinning, Emma slumps forward in her seat, head thumping against her desk, fairly confident that if she ever does murder someone, she knows exactly who that someone will be.

* * *

 

Emma is home by 9 thanks to Red offering to take the last hour of her shift. She has a feeling there’s something going on between her and Hook, but any thought of asking went to the backburner of Emma’s mind in favour of the relief she felt at finally being able to leave. When the clock strikes 10 and Regina still isn’t, she gives up on the idea of waiting and telling herself Regina is a perfectly capable adult who can decide when she’s done for the day.

On the way to Town Hall, she berates herself for not stopping by during the afternoon like she’d intended. As soon as their call ended, she’d started to make plans to take Regina dinner. There might not have been time for them to dine together, but at the very least she could be sure Regina would eat when she had a few minutes spare. She doubts Regina will have remembered now, though. As put together as she might appear to everyone else, and as persistent is she is in ensuring everyone she loves (namely herself and their son) is well taken care of, Emma knows how forgetful Regina can be when it comes to things as trivial as eating.

Pulling up to the curb and seeing the Mercedes in its usual space, she quickly unbuckles her belt and opens the car door. She gathers the containers of food she’d brought with her from the passenger seat before exiting, kicking the door closed with the heel of her boot. If Regina still has work to do and insists on staying to do it like Emma thinks she will, then at least she won’t be doing it on an empty stomach.

Making her way through the building, Emma starts to feel a little creeped out by the quiet. She’s rarely had cause to be here late at night. Even when Regina was doing her best to make her life miserable, she’d never demanded her presence after 6 despite the fact she often worked late herself; Emma had driven by on patrol regularly enough to know just how late some days.

Her shoulders begin to relax as she gets closer to Regina’s office. When she reaches the door, she considers knocking before deciding against it and shifting the containers to one arm. She doesn’t want to spook Regina, but more, she doesn’t want to give Regina any warning incase she’s in a bad mood and she uses said mood as a valid reason to magic the door locked and keep her out.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Opening the door, she’s surprised there are no immediate questions or demands thrown at her but when she glances across the room, it’s readily apparent why. The reason Regina had stayed late at the office wasn’t because she was working, no. It was because she’d fallen asleep at her desk in what looks to Emma like the most uncomfortable position in the world.

Swiftly crossing the room, she carefully places the containers of food down before rounding the desk. Placing a hand on the folder beneath Regina’s cheek, she presses the other one between her shoulder blades and starts to rub slowly- soothingly. Regina hums after a few repetitions, waking herself with the sound.

She blinks rapidly before tilting her face up. Emma smiles down at her. “My snoring is so bad you decided you’d rather sleep at work, huh?”

Regina lifts her head with a frown, folder sticking to her cheek despite Emma trying to prevent that very thing. She swats it away. “You don’t snore.” She glances around and the frown deepens. “What time is it?”

“Quarter past ten. Ish.”

“Oh.” She brings a hand to her forehead. “I… don’t suppose you have any water.”

“Headache come back?” She nods as Emma summons a bottle from the fridge at home, uncapping it before she passes it to her. “I brought f-”

Trailing off as Regina tips her head back and downs almost half the bottle in one go, Emma stares, transfixed. She watches her finish the rest with an odd combination of worried arousal stirring in her gut, and can’t help but gaze blankly when Regina finally meets her eyes.

“What?”

The tone manages to snap her out of it. “Nothing, just… never seen you do that before.”

“I was thirsty,” Regina replies, voice raised defensively.

Emma rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“Oh.”

Conjuring another bottle, she sets it beside the empty one before reaching across the desk for the containers of food and sliding them closer. “I assume you haven’t eaten.”

“I haven’t been feeling well enough to eat.”

A hint of pink colours her cheeks, expression about as sheepish as Regina gets. Emma ignores it as her concern ratchets up a notch. “You’re not sick are you?” She narrows her eyes. “Cause if you are, you have to get better right now. You won’t be able to handle my fussing- you’ll kill me.” Seeing the corners of her mouth twitch, she adds, “I’m serious, lady. I’m a terrible, intrusive, cuckoo caregiver; no one wants to be put through that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Regina drawls wryly, gesturing dismissively when Emma opens her mouth to continue insisting. “My headaches tend to be accompanied by nausea; I’m not sick.”

“Oh.” That’s a relief. “Good.”

Watching her unpack the food, Regina waits until she’s done and looks up before grinning. “I assumed when I woke up you were here to drag me home, not feed me.”

“Why would I do that? You’re a… relatively mature woman who can make her own decisions.”

Brow rising, Regina repeats, “Relatively mature?”

“It may not have been the case this time, but you sometimes forget to eat,” Emma deadpans. “I think relatively is pretty generous of me.”

“Heaven forbid you’d ever do such a thing.”

“I am fully prepared to admit you’re more mature than I am,” she counters, “but I would never forget food.” She scoffs. “Who do you think I am?”

 


	12. Chapter 12

“So…” Jumping, startled, Regina quickly turns around, eyes widening before they narrow in on the expression adorning her son’s face. Henry has the sense to immediately stop grinning and at least _pretend_ to appear contrite. “Sorry.”

“One of these days, dear boy,” she warns him. He is a complete contradiction of what she’d learned a teenager should be. The older he gets, the stealthier he seems to be; always sneaking up on her when she least expects it. She’s waiting for the day she thinks too late and accidentally fireballs him. “Why,” she questions, “are you trying to give me a heart attack today?”

“Ma’s still here,” he offers, seconds ticking by with absolutely zero follow through.

She wonders if it bothers him, wonders if Emma’s presence is somehow no longer wanted despite how hard he’d fought for the two of them to be something besides at each other’s throats. She remembers, then, just how desperately he had wanted it, and dismisses the musings, suspicious that it might then be something else- something he has mentioned before that she had ignored because it had been too soon.

It still is, barely more than a month since the two of them stopped lying to themselves and finally gave into this thing between them. Bar the occasional hormonal mood swing, Henry has been happy- happier than she remembers him ever being in the past. She doubts it has everything to do with Emma being a constant in their everyday lives, but she is at least a part of it, perhaps even the most significant of parts.

Feigning entirely oblivious to his point as she returns to applying her makeup, Regina says, “Downstairs... cooking breakfast, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Uh huh.” In the glass, she watches him enter the room and plop down on the end of her bed, and raises a brow. “She said you suck for not buying waffles.”

Regina smirks, not doubting him for a second. Emma has told her she sucks for a great number of reasons, many of them involving what food she does and does not allow into her house. She doesn’t like waffles, and therefore sees no reason for why they should take up space when something she does like can instead. “Imagine how she’ll feel when she tries to bring her first bear claw through the front door.”

He grins again, having tried it himself. “She’s definitely going to want a divorce then.”

Finishing the last touch up of her lipstick, she chuckles before setting it aside and turning to face him. She cocks another brow. “How do I look?”

“Like she’s never going to leave.” She nods, satisfied, and he sighs. “Seriously, when is ma officially going to move in?”

Suspicions confirmed, she feigns nonchalant and shrugs. “Shouldn’t you be asking her that?”

He screws up his face in what she thinks might be the exact same way she screws up her own when she dares to think about it. Emma might be all well and fine when it comes to the committing side of commitment, but the moment anyone actually mentions that being what it is, they better be ready with a great, big fucking net to catch the woman before she bolts.

“I dunno…” The words are uncertain, but the tone is anything but. It instantly gains her attention and, yes, as she’d suspected, he is still grinning. It widens when she frowns, before he casually- smoothly informs, “She did ask if I wanted a brother or sister.”

Her eyes blow wide, breath hitching as her heart starts to race. “She _what_?”

 

* * *

 

Henry, quite literally, sprints from the bedroom before she’s taken so much as a step toward him. He’d continued to grin at her like an insane person after blindsiding her, but the very second she twitches with the impression she’s going to move, he’s off like a rocket. She can hear him descending the stairs even as she’s trying to comprehend what had just happened.

He’s already at the kitchen when she snaps her fingers and appears behind him, lips parted to chide him when he renders her mute a second time with the question that leaves his mouth. “Ma, will you officially move in with us?”

“Sure.” Flipping something from the pan she’s stood in front of onto, what Regina assumes, is a plate beside her, she flicks off the stove. Turning with a grin, she presents them with said plate, a tower of pancakes balanced precariously in the centre. “Do you guys want cream or syrup on yours?”

“Syrup,” Henry replies. “Mom prefers cream.”

As Emma nods and begins splitting the pancakes onto three separate plates, Regina shakes her head. Appreciative as she is that Emma agreed to cook breakfast to give her a few more minutes to sleep in, there isn’t a chance in hell she’s going to let her get away with the nonsense she just pulled. _Sure_? What the hell kind of answer is that?

“Wait. Wait.” Both Emma and Henry glance at her. Emma’s expression is curious, if mildly confused while Henry, as subtle as he’s able, starts shaking his head like he _knows_ what she’s about to do and she _shouldn’t_ do it. She ignores him. “Did you just say sure to our son asking you to move in?”

“Uh, yeah?” Emma suddenly looks uncertain, brow creasing with a frown. “Why, was I not supposed to? I assumed since you were standing there, he had your approval.”

“He… did.” It’s not a lie. Not exactly. If she’d known he was going to just come right out and ask, then- well. Honestly, she’d probably have talked him out of it, but she does _want_ Emma to stay, forever, if at all possible.

Visibly relaxing, Emma huffs. “So what’s the problem?”

“I just thought…” She would say no. She would panic and come up with some half-baked excuse to leave _right now_ rather than answer. Just like that. _Sure_. As if Regina herself had been worried for nothing.

She, of course, can’t _say_ any of this without potentially upsetting Emma.

Emma, of course, understands regardless. “Ah,” she says, smiling softly if not a little sadly. “You thought that I’d run for the hills at the first sign of you wanting any sort of commitment because that’s the impression I gave everyone when I dumped Hook two seconds after he proposed to me?”

“No.” That, on the other hand, is a definite lie.

Which Emma also understands, because of course she does.

“Liar,” she retorts, though her smile is wider, brighter as she finishes plating the last of the pancakes and rounds the counter. “I dumped Hook because I realized I deserved better than to settle for the first person who bothered to ask-” Standing before her, the smile becomes a grin. “-and if I were ever going to promise to love and obey someone for the rest of my life, then why the hell wouldn’t I promise it to the woman I already do?”

Eyes stinging, Regina sways forward and kisses her. It’s all she can think to do to stop the tears from falling. Emma catches her, slipping around her, surrounding her in warmth as she kisses her back. She tastes like blueberry pancakes, and it makes Regina chuckle against her mouth because _of course_ Emma is the type to eat as she cooks.

Henry groans from his perch at the counter but short of hearing the sound, neither of them pay him any mind.

Emma cups her cheeks, thumbs stroking beneath her eyes before she kisses her harder. Regina clutches her hips and has to stifle a groan of her own as she surrenders to the heat of that skilled mouth.

Content to kiss Emma for the rest of her life, if need be, the disappointment when she pulls away is almost crippling. That is, until, Regina meets her stare. Emma grins, lopsided and adorable, as she calls their son’s name in a tone that can mean only one thing.

He sighs. “I can’t eat all of these by myself, ma.”

“You’re a smart kid,” she drawls, turning her head and arching a brow in a way that speaks to the fact she has probably spent a bit too much time with Regina. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

 

* * *

 

Emma whisks Regina off to the bedroom before he can respond, certain anything he might have said would be something smartass. Not that she wouldn’t deserve it. She did promise him a few hours to play games. She’ll feel guilty about it later, but for the time being, something far more important than killing zombies requires her attention.

“It’s stupid, you know,” she comments casually while guiding Regina the last couple of steps back to her bed.

“What?”

“You,” she says, dropping a kiss to her mouth before Regina takes offense. She elaborates, “You, thinking I’m not fully in this when I recall, not too long ago, we talked about more children. Was that not a dead giveaway that I’m serious about us?”

“Apparently not,” Regina responds, threading a hand through her hair as Emma begins peppering her neck with kisses. She sighs a content sounding sigh, then says, “Henry tells me you asked him if he wanted a brother or sister.”

Emma chuckles against her throat before kissing the skin there. “I was a little more subtle than that.”

“Not according to him you weren’t.”

She hums. She should have known better, really, but she’d been curious and he had just been there, staring at her, like he _knew_ she wanted to ask him something. “Little shit’s too smart for his own good.”

“Yes,” Regina agrees, tugging at her hair. Emma raises her head and tilts it to the side in silent question. “You’ve decided then, that you want more?”

“No.” She might. One day, but no. “I think about it, though.” Regina nods, smiling softly, drawing fingers from her hair and down to her cheek, stroking. Emma hums again, then admits, “I’m happy for now. Just us… and the shithead.”

It might change. It might not. She can’t see herself being anything but happy, another child or no, but then she’d never seen this either. She’d hoped, and prayed, and dreamed, but up until a month ago, the idea that Regina might love her back was nothing more than a fantasy.

Regina snorts. “Please stop insulting our son.”

“Hmm.” Turning them around, Emma sits down on the bed and pulls Regina into her lap. She kisses her soft and slow, and then says, “No.”

“Don’t make me banish you to the couch.”

She smirks, caressing her jaw with lips. “Cause that worked so well for you last time,” she teases before nipping the lobe of an ear.

“I can see where he gets it from,” Regina murmurs.

Stifling a laugh, Emma rears back. Eyes narrowing, she growls playfully, “What are you trying to say, Regina?”

Regina grins. “You’re a smart woman, Emma,” she purrs, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

 

* * *

 

Three consecutive orgasms later and the sheer smugness radiating from Regina can no longer be ignored. Emma forces her eyes open to take in the expression this cocky asshole she loves is sporting, and laughs, not at all expecting Regina to wiggle her eyebrows the way she does. It’s somehow adorable, sexy and amusing all at once.

“You’re a dork.”

“Coming from you…” Regina smiles, and it is radiant. Emma wraps around her, sighing, content as she pulls her down on top of her and their mouths meet for the umpteenth time. “Mmm,” Regina purrs, “I could get used to this.”

“Which part?” Emma smirks. There are so many great moments to choose from. “The one where we traumatize our son by being too loud, the one where you demand I prove my love to you in orgasms, or the one where you decide I’m taking too long and overpower me?”

Grinning, Regina replies, “Certainly not the part where you assume I have to choose.”

Emma chuckles before she concedes. “Silly me."


End file.
